Somewhere in Between
by Dyscrasia
Summary: Meryl discovers that its not as easy as it looks to play the hero. PG-13 just in case. Much VM fluff Final Chapter now added
1. The Beginning of the End

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun. I am not creative enough to come up with the marvel that is Trigun. Nor will I pretend that any of these characters are of my own creation. There may be a lame henchmen without a nametag that could come from my own limited imagination, but that's as far as it goes. However, I am a huge fan of Trigun, and a bit of an obsessive, so I have decided to write my very own fanfiction. Be prepared for fluff!.  
  
**************  
Gray eyes gazed intently at the front gates of a dusty little town lying in wait in the shadows of the dusty planet that had become the new home of the battered human race.  
She pulled her knees up to her chest like a shield, her chin resting atop them like a careful watcher. Her night clothing, an oversized white shirt, blew gently in the wind, revealing long sturdy legs. She released an almost inaudible sigh, wrapped both arms about her knees as if to comfort herself.  
"How long has she been like that?" A voice, unheard by the gray-eyed woman, asked from within a small residence not too far from where the woman sat.  
"She goes out there every morning to wait," Millie responded, her voice forelorned, seeming to share in the woman's pain. And she did, although Millie didn't have the luxury of being able to wait for the man for whom her heart beat. She knew he wouldn't return. Millie's kind, though sad eyes turned to the townsman who had come to visit and 'check up on' the girls.  
The grizzled old man seemed to consider this, scratching his beard in thought. "And what do you think, Ms. Millie? Do you think the young man she's waiting for will come back?"  
Millie seemed to earnestly consider the question for a moment before she answered, quietly, "I don't know."  
  
******************  
  
Meryl rubbed a hand across her eyes, angrily commanding her tears to stay back. She pulled her knees tighter to her chest, attempting to ward off the sharp ache in her heart. Another sigh fell past her lips, tumbling down into the layer of dirt that covered the well upon which she perched. A thousand thoughts sped about her mind, prodding her in sensitive places.  
He'll come back. I know he will. He has to....  
And why? Why did he have to? Her mind wondered. He owed her nothing. Hell, he probably didn't even like her the way she liked him. No, it went beyond like. Her heart had been stolen by the clueless gunman, and he didn't seem to even know it.  
"I love you, Vash" she had whispered a million and one times to the darkness of her room, as she spent another sleepless night, curled up in a chair, her forehead against the cool glass of her window, hoping to catch a glimpse of red coat in the spare lamplight of the streets below. Her heart had leapt to her throat anytime a wayward drunk had stumbled down the street, and afterwards her hopes plumeted back down to rock bottom. She couldn't count the times she had cried over his absense. She didn't want to. It was so hard to cry silently, although she found herself becoming increasingly good at it. She had never wished to awaken Millie, who now slept in the same room as her. The both of them found it too painful to have a big empty room to themselves. whenever Meryl spent another night crying herself to sleep she would keep careful watch over her best friend's small twin bed, making sure she didn't wake up. She knew that Millie would worry, and she didn't want to cause her friend any more undue stress than she already had.  
The angle of the sun suddenly brought Meryl back to the present. It was already afternoon. The morning was gone. Tears welled up in her eyes. He hadn't come. Again. And it had been weeks since he left.  
She forced herself up, swiping angrily at her own tears. She really had to stop this. Most likely Vash hadn't come back because he didn't want to come back. And why should he? All she could ever do when he was around was screech, nag, and mumble about the amount of paperwork she had. She had never been able to tell him why she acted like this. She didn't have the courage to tell him that it was all a mask, that she wore because she was afraid. That she had never loved before and the new emotion scared her to the tips of her toes. And now, it seemed, she would never have the chance to tell him the secret message in her heart.  
With one final look at the deserted road leading into the city, Meryl turned and entered the house.  
  
***************  
  
"Good morning Meryl!" Millie said cheerfully, carefully disguising the worry in her voice. Wearing an apron complete with the face of kurineko on the front, Millie seemed every bit as happy and carefree as she had been before the....incident.  
"Good morning, Millie," Meryl returned, a smile plastered on her face like paint on a wall. She gave her weary form over to the comfort of one of the chairs in the kitchen, slinging one arm over the back in a carefree motion. Moments later a plate heaped with eggs, pancakes, and sausage was placed before her.  
"Eat up!" Millie crowed, beaming with pride at her own culinary genius. Meryl smiled, genuinely, though it was only a ghost of what she was, at one time, capable of. Millie always gave her an elephant's portion of food, despite the fact that Meryl barely ate these days. Meryl's gaze left the steaming food in front of her, raising to take in the entire table. Another plate was set on the opposite side of where she sat, Millie sliding into a chair, her smile ever in place. Meryl, however, wasn't concentrating on Millie's side of the table. Her eyes, instead, took in the empty chair next to her. A sad smile whispered itself across her lips. The first couple of mornings after Vash had left, Millie would accidentally set out an extra plate. She would blush when she realized her mistake, hurridly taking it away in hopes that Meryl wouldn't notice. But Meryl's sharp eyes always noticed. It broke her heart, thinking of the times they had argued over some trivial thing at breakfast. She wished with all her heart that her last days with him had been spent in happiness.  
"I couldn't tell him!," Her own voice echoed in her ears. She had cried that to Millie, as Vash had walked away to face his greatest enemy; his brother. And she had stayed behind in this lonely town, praying every day that she would see his tall lanky form strutting triumphantly through the gates. His smile haunted her, his voice taunted her; even the memory of him packing away mountains of donuts painfully squeezed her already injured heart.  
"I've been thinking..." Millie's voice cut through the clouds of memory, once again bringing Meryl back to their small kitchen, where the two of them sat alone.  
Seeing that she had Meryl's attention, Millie went on. "Maybe...we should leave here".  
Meryl's eyebrows almost shot off the top of her head, so Millie hurried on. "This town is so full of memories, and pain. We could request to go back to headquarters, back to our desk jobs. And perhaps leave the past behind".  
Meryl was silent for a long time. Millie amazed her sometimes. Though her exterior made her seem almost slow of mind, and simple, Millie's intellect cut very deep.  
Locking eyes with her partner, and best friend, Meryl could plainly see the hope twinkling in Millie's eyes.  
She wants to leave...she wants to run away from the pain as badly as I do....  
Taking on her stoic, work-a-holic form instantaneously, Meryl smiled. "You know Millie? That sounds like a great idea. I'm getting tired of rotting out here in the outskirts, and undoubtedly the chief doesn't want us out here doing nothing. I'll write the chief a letter about it tonight. We can send it off tomorrow. Hopefully, by the end of this month, we can be out of this god-foresaken town!"  
Millie smiled, though it never quite reached her eyes. The unspoken language between them said that really, neither of them could stand the silence echoing through the house anymore.  
That night they went to bed without a word to each other, each lost in thoughts of the future, and what it held. They were both still very young, and had 'their whole lives in front of them'. They both, however, felt as if they had already lost their lives, to bulletholes and blood. ***********************  
  
Well, let me know what you think ^_^ 


	2. Leftovers

A distant rumble. A cloud of dust. The small open-top car flew over the sand like a scared rabbit running for its life. Anyone observing would think the driver had their brain fried by one of the three suns...or perhaps all three.  
Meryl's face was spread into a wide grin. She leaned forward a bit, her foot pressing down harder on the accelerator, making the car jounce and bob over another rift in the ground. She laughed. Not a small, timid chuckle. She threw her head back and howled.  
Hearing a soft squeak, Meryl cautiously slid a glance to the passenger seat of the car. Her grin widened as she noticed hands clenched tightly upon the seat. Blonde hair blew about violently, mixing with the sand kicked up from the car.  
She focused once more on the terrain in front of her. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, before jerking it hard to the left. Tires squealing, the car wheeled to the left, coming dangerously close to flipping over and rolling across the sand. Her passenger cried out in alarm.  
"You're such a baby" Meryl said lightly, too enthralled in her driving to be angry.  
"I'm not used to being thrown about like a kick ball" The man replied, staring her down with his blue eyes. It was clear that he was not amused by all this, and Meryl suddenly realized that she was turning an otherwise pleasant date around for the man next to her. With a soft sigh, she let up on the gas pedal, slowing the car down until it was going at an acceptable rate.  
Silence reigned where the roar of the car's engine had once been. She cleared her throat. Then she cleared it again. And again. After the third time, she realized that she must sound like she were choking up her own lungs, so she tried at conversation.  
"In the town I grew up in, they used to race cars. They were always beat up. The cars they used were beat up, I mean. And...I used to go out there and watch them. My mother never liked it, so I had to sneak out. I secretly longed to be one of the ones racing. Of course, my parents wouldn't have it. So, whenever I got to drive our car, I would practice at driving like a racer. I liked to pretend I was back at the broken-down track"  
There was a chuckle from the seat next to her. She looked over at him, slowing down until the car was at a stand still. She then turned the car off, and folded her hands into her lap.  
This had been the first date she had been on since...well, since her first days at the Bernardelli insurance agency. A fellow coworker had asked her, and she had gone. She couldn't say she had gone because she liked him, more because she wanted to stomp the rumors that had circulated about her. She hadn't enjoyed it much, either. He had tried to grope her, and had earned himself a whomp on the head that left a nice-sized bump on the top of his head. Of course, the next day he had turned it around, saying she had just attacked him. The rumors had gotten worse after that. Fortunately, she started being sent on all the odd-ball jobs, and she didn't have to deal with the office people anymore. That was part of the reason she had accepted all of the field jobs in the first place. She couldn't take the office drama.  
Back in reality, Meryl felt a cool hand slide over hers, squeeze posessively. She put on her best smile, and faced the man next to her.  
He was looking elsewhere, however, attempting to brush some of the grains of sand from his limp hair with his free hand.  
Meryl cleared her throat. He looked up, and smiled at her.  
"Thank you for going out with me, Meryl. I've had a really great time".  
"Think nothing of it, Marx, I was glad to get out again."  
He was giving her that "I'm going to kiss you" look, and it made her insides twist. But she didn't move, she just let it happen. His lips were soft, cool. They felt nice on hers. Not spectacular, or repulsive, just nice. She kissed him back, and for a moment they just sat like that. It was pleasant. Once it was over she smiled, turned the car back on, and drove him home.  
"When can I see you again?" Marx asked as he hopped from the passenger side.  
She worried her lower lip with her teeth. "How's...next Thursday?"  
"Sounds good. Pick me up around seven."  
With that, he turned and headed toward his apartment building. Meryl watched him blankly for a moment, before driving herself home to the small, two bedroom apartment that she shared with her best friend.  
"Have fun on your date?" The ever-cheerful Millie asked upon Meryl's arrival home.  
"It was alright" Meryl replied, sinking into a wooden chair at the cramped kitchen's table.  
Millie smiled, placing a steaming cup of tea before Meryl and sitting down across from her, knowing full well that Meryl would spill every detail about her evening.  
  
*************  
  
Later that evening, Meryl sat awake, staring out her window. Her mind briefly flicked over the events of the evening. Nothing too exciting, she decided, and put it away from her mind.  
It had been two years since Millie and Meryl had sold their little house. Two years since they had packed everything up and left, trying their hardest not to look back. Though neither of them spoke of Vash the Stampede, or Nicholas D. Wolfwood since they left, they both knew that the lost objects of their affection would be everpresent in their minds.  
For months, Meryl had stayed awake, just as she was now, and stared out the window, mentally willing some ghostly visage to appear in the street, to take form into the man she loved, and that was now somewhere so far out of her grip. When she heard, nor saw anything for so long, she had given up hope. He probably hadn't cared about her whereabouts, had felt no need to come back to her. She clung to that possibility avidly, not wanting to think that maybe....maybe, he just hadn't survived.  
Now she was conflicted. She had once upon a time had the thought flit through her head that she would wait for Vash forever. Whatever it took, she wouldn't give up on him. She realized now that it was only a school girl fancy. That she would be unable to wait for someone who obviously had no intention of giving her the time of day, much less the rest of his life. However long that might be...  
Meryl shook her head, as if doing so could clear her head. She didn't want to think about Vash, however impossible a task that might be. She was probably delving too deep into the situation anyway. He was just a wandering gunman, and she was a career woman with recurring thoughts of settling down with a loving husband.  
However, if Vash were the one that she was settling down with, she wouldn't complain....  
Sighing, Meryl turned and clicked off the lamp next to her, preparing for sleep that she knew would take hours to come. 


	3. Broken Glass

This disclaimer should've been in the first chapter I wrote, but I forgot, so I'll write it now:  
I 'm so happy that I got a review (from a very very nice person) that I've decided to go ahead and release another chapter in the same day as the first two have been released. Please R&R. Thanks =)  
  
************  
  
Meryl watched in fascination as the words coming from the typewriter seemed to blend together. It's not that she was typing badly, more that she had been at work so long that most words had lost their meaning. She discreetly covered a yawn with the palm of her hand, leaning back to ease the tightness in the muscles of her back. A shadow passed over her after a few more minutes of typing, and she glanced up, startled.  
"Meryl." the chief's droll voice sifted through her ears, "You look exhausted"  
Meryl looked back down to the insurance claim she had been writing, embarrassed. "Heh.yeah. I guess I had a late night"  
"You've been taking a lot of hours lately," chief stared down his nose at Meryl, almost making it seem as if Meryl's motives for working so much were corrupt.  
"Well, yeah, I guess I have."  
Meryl offered no explanation, and after realizing that he wasn't going to receive one, the chief sighed and went back to his office. Meryl simply went back to her typing, with nothing more than a shake of her head. She was unwilling to say that she was simply looking for an escape from reality.  
  
Later that evening, as Meryl made her way back to her apartment, she paused at the glass pane of a shop window. Held within, like tantalizing treasures, fine silver weapons winked at her. She stared at them longingly, the sack of groceries clutched in her arms momentarily forgotten. Her thoughts turned to her two-dozen or so derringers. It caused a frown to take control of her lips. With a sudden stint of determination, however, she tore herself from the window and made her way the rest of the way home.  
  
A rather disturbing scene greeted her when she came to the door. It wasn't so much that she found anything amiss, rather that there were several things missing. The biggest of the missing items being her roommate.  
"Millie?" Meryl called, poking her head into each room. It didn't take her very long, considering there were only two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom in the whole apartment. She found no Millie. Meryl was suddenly worried. Millie had told Meryl that morning that she was too sick to go to work, and now suddenly she was healthy enough to get up and run around?  
Meryl tore through the apartment, looking for some sign of where Millie might be. Her usual clothes were gone, as well as her shoes.  
Finally, Meryl looked in the most obvious spot: the fridge. There, tacked up by one of the corny little fridge magnets they had bought to make the place seem more home-like, was a note. Meryl struck the heel of her palm against her forehead, cursing herself for her paranoia of people being missing. She could blame that new trait on Vash, though, since he had that annoying habit of disappearing for long periods of time. Although.it seemed he had disappeared for good this time.  
Meryl sighed at the note.  
Meryl,  
Gone to the bar. Be back late. Don't wait up.  
-Millie  
She couldn't blame Millie for wanting to drown herself in alcohol. She had lost the love of her life, and the life of her child. Tears came to Meryl's eyes, thinking about that day long ago at the hospital. It was still a fresh wound, to the both of them. Deep down though, Meryl envied Millie. Millie had gotten one night with the man she loved. It was more than Meryl could even hope for. Still, she had grieved both for Wolfwood, and for her friend, as she had watched helplessly while Millie had sobbed until she couldn't breathe. Not that Millie had wanted to still be breathing after that night. But she had pulled through. Meryl admired her strength.  
With one final sigh, Meryl thought of the long workday ahead of her day, and went to bed.  
  
Later that night the sound of a crash brought Meryl back to consciousness with a vicious slap. She sat bolt upright in bed, her hand instinctively swiping up the derringer she kept on her nightstand. She froze, then, and listened, her ears straining for even the slightest sounds.  
Nothing.  
And then.muffled cries. Cries of pain. In a voice that Meryl recognized all too well.  
Her bare feet hit the floor, and before rational thought could reach her, she was barreling from her room and down the hallway to Millie's room.  
"Millie!" She cried, throwing open the door, "I heard sounds a---"  
Her voice died in her throat as she took in the scene before her: blood on the floor. Millie's blood.  
"MILLIE!" Meryl screamed to the empty room, dashing forward to look out the shattered window, hoping to see the culprits, and her best friend, on the street below. But there was no one.  
However, there was the soft sound of a click behind her. Meryl whirled, coming face to face with the barrel of a pistol.  
"Don't move." a familiar voice told her. She couldn't place the name of the voice, however.  
Meryl didn't bother asking who it was coming to call at this hour, however, as her arm snapped up, the hard steal of her derringer connecting with soft temple. The person crumbled, crying out in pain.  
Standing over them, the fury of hell in her eyes, Meryl's foot came down on the injured spot. There was another cry, but Meryl felt no mercy.  
"Where are they taking Millie?"  
"Annng..." Was her only reply.  
"WHERE?!"  
"To December!" The woman gasped finally, "20 miles North of December!"  
Meryl narrowed her eyes.  
"That's all I needed to know"  
With a swift kick to the same tender spot, the woman was unconscious. Meryl glanced around for a moment, taking stock, before bolting from the apartment.  
She didn't stop running until she reached her vehicle. The fact that she was still clad in her pajamas never crossed her mind. She only thought of Millie's safety. She had to save her.  
Meryl couldn't see anybody left on the all-too-quiet street, but she could see the tracks of another, larger vehicle well enough. There was another small jeep parked in front of the building. Meryl assumed it belonged to the woman who had tried to gun her down.  
Taking off, she was going a ridiculous speed before she slammed on the breaks, causing the tires to skid and her car to come dangerously close to crashing into the handrailing of the walkway on the side of the road. She leapt from the vehicle, leaving the keys, and moves up to the window of a dark shop. She hesitated only a moment before once again lashing out with her derringer. The glass broke easily, and Meryl took no notice of the small cuts she received from flying shards of glass.  
A minute later found her once again roaring down the road, headed now into open desert. Murder was on her mind. She would settle for nothing less 


	4. Rotted Memories

Millions of thanks to the people who have left such nice reviews ^_^ it's kept me writing on this. And I still don't own Trigun. Sigh!  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
The deep desert sand wasn't as easy to pilot as her usual trek, but somehow Meryl managed to continue her reckless speed. It was easy to follow the track of the vehicle that the culprits had taken off in. There was a niggling voice in the back of her mind saying that perhaps it was too easy, but she pointedly ignored it  
Instead, she focused on the night.err, morning's events. She had acted so rashly. She had lost it, gotten angry.  
It brought her back to that sandy desert, where she had faced an enraged man with a loaded gun. The man had the intention of killing the person dearest to Meryl, yet she had faced him with absolute calm, telling him it was time to end the cycle of hatred.  
Meryl chuckled at the memory "So much for ending the cycle," she thought, becoming aware of the weapons lying innocently on the seat next to her. She shook her head. Since Vash had left, and never come back, she almost felt like she was losing herself in small pieces.  
She decided, however, that now was not the time to worry about such things. Instead, her foot further depressed the pedal. She certainly wasn't gaining on the larger vehicle. It was built to cross sand like this, sailing across it with the grace of an eagle. Meryl, on the other hand, was getting knocked around like a pinball.  
Meryl released the hot air pent up inside her with a long breath. She inhaled the air of the open desert, tilting her head back to the stars. Life was so strange. It was always full of twists and turns that would take you completely by surprise.  
"You know," She asked the twinkling beings above her, "When I was young, I wished for adventure. I wished for a chance to get out there and do something."  
She paused.  
"And I got it, I suppose," she continued.  
She paused again, before whispering: "But at what price?"  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
After what seemed like years, Meryl came upon the city of December. She sighed with relief. The noonday sun seemed blistering, and her lips were dry and cracked from dehydration.  
"I suppose," she mumbled, talking to herself once more, "That I should stop here for the night-um, day. I can't take on a greedy band of thugs when I'm this exhausted"  
Making up her own mind, she carefully parked the car outside a friendly looking hotel, and hopped out. She walked inside.  
"Good gracious young lady!" the man at the front cried, alarmed at Meryl's disheveled hair, cracked and bleeding lip, and skimpy nightclothes. "Were you robbed?"  
"Wha-I-well, I mean, no, I wasn't. Could I get a room, please?" Meryl's cheeks flamed red, and her gaze took in the fine grain of the floor below her.  
"Sure." the man replied suspiciously. He plucked a key from the pegboard behind him, handed it to her, and then turned back to his work.  
For a moment or two, Meryl merely stood there stunned. Wasn't he going to charge her? Then she realized something: her nightclothes had no pockets. Meaning she had no money with her. Silently, and before the man could change her mind, she checked the number on her keys and hustled away.  
She opened the door to a modest hotel room. It was nothing grand, but it wasn't shabby either. Not that she cared at that point. Suddenly the bed seemed like heaven to her. Before she knew it, her legs had carried her to it, and she fell upon its feather mattress, sinking in a good ways. She closed her eyes, promising herself that she was just going to rest there until she could get up again. Her exhausted body, however, thought differently.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Gentle hands reached down and gently caressed the cheek of the sleeping form. Meryl sighed in her sleep, snuggled into a tighter ball. The figure leaning over her smiled and leaned down, pressing lips to her cheek for a brief, sweet kiss. Meryl smiled.  
"Vash." she whispered, in the throes of a dream.  
With a final touch, the figure slunk back out of her room, quietly closing the door behind her.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl woke with a start, frantically looking around the room. She didn't remember falling asleep. She growled at herself. How could she have been so careless? Who knew what those monsters were doing to Millie by now?  
Through the haze of her still sleepy brain, a dream registered. Meryl's eyes widened. Vash had come to her. Had kissed her cheek. Now that she thought about it, her cheek tingled. Raising a hand, she touched it to her cheek; almost in question of whether it had been real or not.  
But, of course it couldn't have been. Vash was gone, long gone. And he obviously had no intention of visiting, or even contacting her.  
Vash just wasn't the type to want to settle down and love one person for the rest of his life.  
Well, wait. That wasn't exactly true. There had been that woman named 'Rem'. Vash had loved her. A lot, from what she could guess. Perhaps her death had closed off his heart. Not that she blamed him for doing so. There were times she wanted to do the same, and she hadn't gone through a tenth of what Vash had. Thinking of all the pain he had gone through, she wanted to.  
No. She would not get emotional now. Not when she had to go fight the bastards who had taken Millie. She prayed they hadn't hurt Millie. There would be hell to pay if they had.  
A smile came to her face as a thought struck her. She wondered briefly what would become of her job at the Bernardeli Insurance Society. Perhaps they would fire her for her disappearance. Maybe they would think she was dead? Meryl was getting ahead of herself. All she had to do was face these thugs, beat the snot out of them, and get back home before the end of the day. She would just explain what had happened. The chief would believe her, wouldn't he?  
Meryl glanced at the window, suddenly realizing that the light in the room wasn't coming from the sun, but rather a light she had apparently left on. It was nighttime. She had arrived here at noon, which meant that she had fallen asleep for several hours. She cursed herself, bolting upright, and headed for the door.  
She stopped, however, when a change in the room suddenly came to her attention.  
Turning, she moved over to the desk. There, wrapped in bright red paper, as if to catch her attention, was a box. Confused, she warily tore off the paper, and flipped open the lid.  
There inside was a carefully folded outfit. Now even more confused, Meryl carefully lifted out the plain, in descript long sleeved red shirt, and comfortable tan pants.  
A voice came back to her suddenly..  
  
"Red, in the language of the flower, means determination and.courage."  
  
Vash had told her that once.  
Where had these clothes come from, though? She had never heard anyone come in. She was almost certain she would've heard it. She was such a light sleeper. Then again, she had been really exhausted.  
It must've been that nice man who had given her the room, she thought. He had seemed so concerned when she had walked in with her dirty night rail on; perhaps he had decided to do her another favor. She silently thanked him.  
She noticed, then, that there was one more item in the box. She gawked at it. Lying on the bottom, as innocently as a necklace from a lover, was a leather belt, with two pistol holsters attached, one for each side. She continued to stare, though her hands reached in and her fingers ran over the fine craftsmanship. The maker had even branded a winding ivy pattern, connecting the holsters.  
Meryl glanced about suspiciously, almost suspecting some shadowy figure to be watching her from a dark corner. There was, of course, no one in the room but her.  
Her gaze returned to the belt. How could anyone have known she needed it? She had never seen anyone around that she knew.  
"I may as well use it" she said aloud, and realized something: she had left her guns in the car! She had been so preoccupied with resting; she hadn't even thought to bring them in with her. Not that it would've looked good if she had stridden into the hotel toting a pair of revolvers. But she could at least have hidden them beneath the seat. Instead, she had left them sitting in the most obvious place: on the passenger seat.  
Changing quickly, she secured the belt around her slender waist, and ran out to her car, relieved to see both revolvers still in place where she had left them.  
Every thought of the mysterious package was wiped from her mind then. Her soul concern was Millie's safety. She would worry about where the gift had come from later.  
The hotel's staff, and management, was tucked away into their beds, so no one saw Meryl leave. No one, that is, except a pair of glowing blue eyes.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl was still 20 miles from her destination, but her heart was beating faster than it did when Vash was around. She mentally chided herself to be brave about it, to strive in with confidence, but the scared portion of her just wanted to hide in a corner and let fate take its course. She forced that part of her under the rug, though, and focused on what she was going to do when she got there.  
There. She wasn't really sure what there was. She knew she was going 20 miles North of December, but she realized now that she hadn't asked her attacker just what she was looking for. A barn? A warehouse? Some little shack in the middle of nowhere? With Meryl's luck, she would bust in on some defenseless little farmer family and scare them senseless.  
She had lost the tracks she had been following somewhere in December. Now she had only to go north, as the woman had said.  
She must've been halfway there, she thought, roughly calculating the distance she had traveled so far. Her heart leapt up to safety in her throat. She swallowed several times. At least she was comfortable. The clothes that.whoever had bought for her, fit almost perfectly, though the shirt was a little big. She felt safe in them, strangely, but she didn't think about it. She was just glad to be out of her nightgown, which she had thrown carelessly into the backseat.  
Mentally, she prepared herself for a fight. She would get Millie back, at any cost.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl knew instantly that she had found the right place. The whole place just reeked of evil. Meryl narrowed her eyes as she drove up the front path to the old ranch house, ignoring the fear bubbling up inside her. She noted that several of the rooms had lights shining from them. Good. That meant the bastards were home.  
At the entranceway, she turned off the ignition, and hopped from the car. Considering the lack of any type of hills, or plants, there was no way she could have snuck up to the place, so she had decided to drive, and conserve a little bit more energy for the fight that was soon to be ahead. Besides, it was still dark  
Meryl made her way up to the door, swallowing as if to extinguish her fear. Though she continually fought it away, it kept leaping at her, trying to pull her back to the safety of the city. But she knew she couldn't.  
She considered knocking, then smirked at the irony in the thought. Instead, she simply tried the knob, and was amazed when it flew open at her touch. She hadn't turned it, merely placed a couple fingers on it.  
Taking this to be a bad omen, she drew both revolvers from their holsters. It made her feel the slightest bit better, having them ready. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.  
To her utter amazement, the inside was furnished extremely well, without a hint of dust. It took the image of the place she had envisioned (worn furniture, dirty floors, overall deserted look) and ripped it into shreds with sharp little teeth.  
Also, there was no one there. Her heavy breaths seemed to fill the silence, so she tried to breathe silently. Nothing moved. Nothing made even a sound. She began to wonder if perhaps she had come to the wrong place. She hadn't seen any tracks leading in here; at least, none coming in from the front. She hoped that they had come in from some rear entrance, or else she was about to make a big mistake.  
Suddenly, to her left, a door swung open of its own will. Out of reflex, one of her revolvers came up and pointed itself at the defenseless door. Cautiously, she moved over to it, peeking around to see behind it.  
Nothing. An empty hallway stood before her. She began to breathe again, albeit it wasn't easy. She was growing more frightened by the minute.  
She began to creep down the hallway, step after careful step, expecting some henchman to pop out from a side room and jump her at any moment. But nothing came, and the hallway stretched on.  
After what seemed like an eternity, the hallway ended, and she found herself in a rather elegant, and rather large room. There was a large table set up in the middle of it. Two chairs were pulled up to it, both of which were filled.  
Meryl gasped. Her eyes had gotten so large, she was afraid they would come out of her head. There before her sat her best friend, bound and seemingly lost to the world, and.and.  
"No." Meryl whispered, "It can't be! It can't be you!"  
The other figure took another scoop of his sundae, savoring the taste of the sweet concoction on his tongue, before swallowing.  
"You know." his voice, always so mellow and calm and.creepy, said, "I believe that desserts were the only real accomplishment of the human race. They're a complete waste of time, otherwise"  
Meryl stuttered, incoherent.  
"Surprised?" he asked, his voice as level as always, "I figured you would be. Such a strange emotion it is. Well, I suppose you'll want to know why you're here. You humans are always so concerned with the details."  
Seeming to have regained her senses, Meryl trained one of her revolvers on the spot between the man's eyes "It's impossible. I heard the bullet. I heard your death!"  
"Ah, yes.death. Such a cunning word. You see... death is but a mortal conception. It's entirely conditional."  
Meryl's lips were firmly set, to keep her knees from shaking.  
Legato clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.  
"Dominique has grown sloppy. It was a mistake, bringing her back. Although I do commend her for leading you here, even if she failed to bring you back herself"  
Dominique.  
That must've been the woman that had threatened to kill her, Meryl thought. The one that led her here.  
Suddenly, she knew where she had seen the woman before. She had seen her with Vash.  
"You'll have to forgive me for dragging your friend" he nodded towards Millie, who was now staring intently at Meryl, worry obvious in her eyes "into this whole mess. But we knew that we wouldn't be able to bring you here without her running to some annoying 'official' from the nearest city. I do so detest having to waste my time on the vermin you call 'sheriffs'"  
"What is it you want me for so badly?" Meryl asked slowly, her gaze on Millie.  
"We need you to help us return the Master"  
"What? Return the master? What the hell are you talking about?" she began to gauge the distance between where she stood, and Millie's location. Her gaze focused on the knot in the ropes.  
"We need the Master back. He has commanded us to rescue him, and we intend to do just that. However, his captor isn't what you'd like to call 'reasonable', so we decided we needed some incentive on our side"  
"The master.but wasn't.you don't mean Knives?"  
"Who else? Our supreme being."  
"Then that means he's not."  
"Oh please, you expect the Master to fall so easily?"  
".No, of course not"  
Meryl had heard enough of this. It was time to go. Suddenly, and with surprising accuracy, Meryl repositioned her revolver and fired, effectively destroying the knot that held together the ropes around Millie. They fell away to form a heap in Millie's lap.  
"RUN," Meryl screamed. Millie did just that. She bolted from the chair, causing it to tip over backwards, and ran for the door, Meryl fast on her heels.  
They were stopped, however, when a tall figure came to stand in the doorway. Both women skidded to a stop, but still ran into each other, Millie in front of Meryl.  
"Oh my god.it can't be" Millie's eyes were fast filling up with tears. Meryl peeked around her tall friend, and took in a sharp intake of breath at what she saw.  
Millie threw herself at the figure, flinging her arms around broad shoulders.  
"Wolfwood," Millie cried, tears spilling down her cheeks.  
Wolfwood grinned.  
Pulling a pistol from his pocket, he raised it up.  
And pointed it squarely between Millie's eyes.  
"Hello there," Wolfwood smirked. 


	5. Solitary Confinement

This chapter is a bit weak, I think. You'll have to forgive me. The next chapter will be better, I promise. (BTW: I went through this a second time and realized how many typos were in it. So I updated it. Grrr at me for writing at 1 in the morning)  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl's mind whirred nonsensically. She had question after question revolving about in her head. She didn't know where to start, so she went with the most pressing matter:  
"Wolfwood! What the hell are you doing?!"  
Meryl noticed something, then. Wolfwood was identical to the way she remembered him--minus the bullet holes-- with the exception of one thing: his eyes. The light in them was gone. The warmth, the danger, the humor.everything, it seemed, had vanished, leaving behind a dull replica in its place. Meryl's mind was beginning to put together the pieces.  
"Millie." Meryl whispered, pulling at Millie's arm. The girl wouldn't budge. She didn't want to imagine the horrified look on Millie's face, so she continued to pull.  
"Millie" Meryl whispered again, this time a hint of ferocity in her voice "We have to go. This isn't the Wolfwood we know and.love."  
Millie wouldn't budge.  
"Ah, yes, I forgot to mention, that I've gathered a new puppet lately."  
"How dare you!" Meryl raged, training her revolver on Legato's face, and firing.  
Legato's eyes narrowed. That was it. There was no dramatic 'I'm about to get shot' pose, no attempt at resistance. His eyes simply narrowed. Then the whole world went black.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl awoke later to a large headache in a small room. She couldn't remember where she was, what had happened.  
There was a knock at the door. The timing was almost too perfect. Legato strode into the room, as smug a bastard as he had ever been.  
"Mrs. Stampede, you're awake." His voice was haughty.  
"Mrs. Stampede?" Meryl questioned, her brows coming together.  
"Oh. That's right. I forgot. You only WISH you were Mrs. Stampede." He was grinning now. Meryl wanted to use one of her revolvers to wipe it off his face.  
Legato noticed the flame igniting in her eyes "Struck a nerve, did I? Such a foolish human you are, to think that a legendary gunman would settle down with a simple insurance girl. A mortal, no less. Surely you do not honestly think he would settle for such a boring existence? Or did your foolish heart actually believe you had a chance? I imagine you spent quite some time waiting for him to come back. But he never did, did he? And that hurt. But you never gave up hope. You just continued on your foolish little sentimental way, believing that maybe he would come back someday, and confess his profound and undying adoration for y--"  
"STOP IT" Meryl screamed, covering her ears. Legato's words were sharp, finding the soft spots in her heart and gouging her there. "STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT"  
"He would live on long after you, you know. You would be nothing but a pile of dust at the bottom of an ornate box, and he would be as young as ever. Haven't you ever wondered how many women he's loved before you?"  
Meryl said nothing, but the pain flashing across her eyes was unmistakable.  
Legato began to laugh. It was a hideous sound, as if he mocked the entire world. It was also a sound that would haunt her, forever lurking at the back of her mind.  
"You humans never cease to amaze me"  
"You keep saying 'YOU humans'. Aren't you a human yourself?" Meryl asked, grinding her teeth together, pointedly ignoring the pain his previous words had caused. She refused to let him lead her to another outburst.  
"Hmm.at one point, yes, but now I am so much more. Just like your friend."  
Meryl suddenly remembered.  
"What did you do to Wolfwood?!" Meryl snapped.  
"I have done nothing. It is the master who has wished us all to return to the land of the living"  
"What?"  
Legato sighed, as if talking to a child who asks questions that are too far above their comprehension.  
"Never mind that. All you need know is that you are here for a purpose, for the time being. Your precious Humanoid Typhoon has something very important to the gung ho guns, and we intend to get it back."  
"So I'm the bait, huh?" Meryl sneered, "What makes you think that he'll come here for my sake?"  
"We shall see" Legato responded, and made his way to the door.  
"Wait! Where is Millie? What have you done to her?"  
Legato turned slightly, giving her a glimpse of sinister gold orb.  
"Your friend is safe. I even imposed a guard, to ensure that neither she, nor you, will try anything."  
With that, he left. Meryl felt her hip. Her guns were still in place. But why? Not that her being armed seemed to make much difference with Legato, considering what had happened the last time she shot at him. Not only that, the threat in Legato's voice was unmistakable. Should she try anything, Millie's life was on the line. Tears threatened to overwhelm Meryl's eyes. Her head buried itself in her hands, her hair filtering through her fingers. This had turned into such a mess. She had to think, but she couldn't. Her conversation with Legato just kept repeating itself in her head, in a maddening rhythm. She tried to push it aside, but it just kept coming back. She knew one thing for sure: Vash wouldn't come for her. He hadn't come back to her after the fight with Knives, why would he show himself now?  
Meryl was relieved, however. This meant that Vash was alive, which put a fear of hers to rest. It also meant that he had chosen never to come back, which ripped open an old wound.  
To staunch the blood flow, Meryl studied her surroundings. It was a small room, in what she assumed was the ranch house she had 'laid siege' to. There was a bed, a desk, a dresser, and a closet. The carpet was an ugly brown, but well kept. The walls were a simple yellow cream color. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Meryl almost smiled. It was almost like Legato had purposely made this place seem to be a prison.  
Standing, Meryl made her way to the single window. She was surprised, because it was neither barred nor sealed. Legato knew she wouldn't try to escape. She couldn't, because of 'foolish sentiment' for others.  
Speaking of others, Meryl's thoughts turned to Millie. She had no doubt that the 'guard' posted on Millie was Wolfwood. Such a cruel creature Legato was, to torture her friend like this, when Millie had already suffered more pain than she should ever have to.  
Meryl's head was spinning. So many questions. Why was Wolfwood alive again? And for that matter, Legato? How was she going to get Millie and herself out of this mess, anyway? And what about Wolfwood? Should they try to save him? Meryl wasn't even sure how that was possible. Or even, IF it was possible.  
Falling back once again on the bed, Meryl curled into a ball. She didn't want to think about any of it, but she'd never find a solution if she didn't. So she conceded to her mind's wanderings, and began to plot.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Millie stared at the dark figure sitting on the other side of the room, encased in shadow. She was still in a state of shock. How did one bury a past that came back to life?  
  
"He's not the Wolfwood we know and love"  
  
Millie knew that was true. Despite her air headed exterior, there wasn't much that got past Millie. Still, having him here.all she wanted to do was run to him, throw herself into his arms, and just sob. Sob for all of the pain that she had gone through in the past two years. Most of all, she wanted her affection returned. But the warmth that had radiated from her beloved priest was absent in this room, replaced by a chill that made Millie draw her knees up to her chest and shiver on her small bed.  
Wolfwood sneered at her. Another wound appeared on her heart. Millie winced inwardly, but outwardly she smiled.  
"Boy." She began. Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat and tried again "This room sure is tiny. It reminds me of the room that I had to share with my big big sister when my family lived in this tiny house. Well, I guess we still live in a tiny house. But it's not AS tiny. And I don't live there anymore, so I suppose there's more room. Oh! And you know, my middle big sister just got married. She's expecting her first child sometime late this year. Although, I don't talk to them as much as I used to. You know, before this whole big thing happened, I used to write to them monthly. After that, I just never seemed to have the time. I guess that, really, I didn't really want to either. I don't know if they'd like me as much if I told them that I was planning to have illegitimate child. But then again, I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore."  
Silence descended like a velvet cloak on the room. Millie could feel the tears tickling her eyes, and she blinked them back. Wolfwood hadn't moved throughout Millie's entire tirade, and she sneaked a look at him. He had lit a cigarette, and was staring at the window, seemingly lost in though.  
Millie, however, couldn't take the silence, so she continued.  
"You know, I would've loved to have had a girl. I've always wanted a little girl. Most of my brothers and sisters have boys, so I guess I wanted to be the rebel. And just think! I could've taught her how to sew, and to cook, and when her hair grew I could show her how to style it just right. She'd be really pretty, you know. With both my looks and yours. Mainly yours though. I'm not very pretty. At least, I don't think I am. My big big sister had this long blonde hair and blue eyes. I wish I could've looked like her. But no sense in brooding, is there?" Millie smiled.  
The figure in the corner still hadn't moved.  
Millie's cheerful countenance collapsed. Tears welled up in her eyes. There were times, when no one was looking, that Millie would just break down and cry. She sometimes just couldn't take the stress of everything. Not that she ever showed it. To everyone else, including her best friend Meryl, she always appeared the perfect picture of cheerfulness. And perhaps, by now, she had even convinced herself that she was just fine. Still, she had her moments.  
Millie sighed, whispering into the darkness. It was more to herself, than to the empty shell of the man she had once loved more than anything:  
"If it was a boy, I would've named him Nicholas"  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl studied the ceiling for seemingly the thousandth time. She didn't know how long she had been in this room. She knew it had been several days, though. It was almost driving her insane, being pent up like this. She had almost paced a path into the floor. And yet, she hadn't come up with even a fraction of a workable plan to get them out of here.  
Sighing elaborately, she sat herself down in the rickety chair before the desk, her gaze out the window.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
"You know" Millie said cheerfully, sitting on the side of her twin- sized bed, "That orphanage of yours was around December somewhere. I guess you knew that, though. I went there and visited once. It's still functional. That would make you happy."  
"Do you ever shut up?"  
Millie stared at Wolfwood in alarm. He was grinding out a cigarette with the sole of his loafers. It was his voice. The same voice that had whispered words of love to her. Now, however, it seemed more a stranger's voice.  
"I guess I don't"  
A disgusted noise burbled up from his throat. Millie stared at the floor. Suddenly, she didn't like it here as much. She had almost led herself to believe that perhaps she was getting through to him, even the slightest bit. Now she cursed herself a fool. He had just been biding his time, listening to her meaningless drabbles for lack of anything better to do.  
She decided, however, that it wasn't going to get her down. Her own cheeriness was the only thing currently keeping her going, and she clung to it avidly.  
"My middle big sister used to ask me the same thing. In fact, one time, when we were all going on a family trip, and I was telling everyone about the dead mouse I had found in the pond behind our house, she told me that-"  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
She was going insane. There was no other explanation for it. She was simply going insane.  
Meryl felt like a caged animal. She could handle mountains of paperwork, she could handle following around the most dangerous men on the planet, but she could not handle being stuck in cube-like room, waiting for some impossible absolution.  
Legato had never come and visited her again. It was both a relief and anger to her. At least she had someone to talk to when he was here, even if their talks merely involved him trying to upset her.  
Meryl rapped her fingers on the soft wood of the desk, her gaze eternally on the sands dancing by out the window. Nobody ever came this way. Meryl commended Legato on his choice of location. No one would think to investigate this area, much less try to attack.  
Today, however, Meryl was more antsy than normal. She wasn't sure why. Today was nothing special, just another day of her confinement. She wondered idly if Legato would tire of having to wait, and just go and find Vash and Knives on his own. After killing both Millie and herself, of course.  
It was so obvious by now that Vash wasn't coming to save them. He wasn't even aware of their existence anymore. Why would he bother saving some figment of the past?  
The whole thing made Meryl angry: both Vash's disregard of her existence, and Legato's insistence that he was coming. Her anger, combined with her frustration at being cooped up this long, was making Meryl want to act rashly.  
And she did.  
Standing, Meryl made her way to the door. She tried the knob. The knob turned, and opened easily. She sneered. The bastard had way too much confidence.  
She made her way slowly down the hallway, step after careful step. She wasn't sure where Millie's room was located, only that she would find it. This place couldn't be THAT large. Or, at least, she hoped it wasn't.  
Unfortunately, Meryl's searched decided it was going to be bigger than she anticipated. She opened door after door to find nothing but empty rooms painfully similar to the one she had been caged in.  
"Bastard's probably enjoying this." she mumbled to herself, then paused. A glimpse of light 'at the end of the tunnel', so to speak, caught her attention at the end of the hallway she was in currently. She tiptoed that direction.  
The room she came into was the same one she had met Legato in. She snarled at the memory. Lucky for her, it was currently empty. Unfortunately for her, it just left her back at square one: she had no idea where Millie was.  
A flutter outside the window caught her attention. She turned to stare in its direction, her heart stopping. Afraid she was caught, she held her breath, waiting to see Legato's ghostly face. However, she saw nothing. She must have been imagining things  
Then, another change in scenery caught her attention. This one, however, was a sound. It resounded through the halls, or seemed to, in Meryl's ears. She heard a door close, followed by a voice.  
Meryl began to run in the direction of the voice. Her legs protested, having been stationary for so long, but she ignored them.  
She skidded to a stop, however, when a door popped open right in front of her. She narrowly escaped becoming a door ornament.  
Peeking around it, Meryl exclaimed joyfully.  
"Millie!"  
  
"Meryl!"  
The two embraced quickly, overjoyed at seeing a familiar face after so long. On Meryl's part, at least, seeing as Millie hadn't been alone.  
"We're leaving" Meryl said quietly, as if the walls could hear their plans and tell on them.  
"Leaving?" Millie replied dumbly.  
"Yes. It's obvious that our intended rescue party isn't showing up anytime soon, so we're going to have to take matters into our own hands"  
Millie was silent.  
"Come on Millie! We have to go! While the coast is clear"  
"But Meryl, I can't leave."  
"What? Why not?"  
"Because.I can't leave him here by himself, surrounded by all these evil people"  
"Who are you---Millie! That man isn't Wolfwood! You have to understand that he isn't the man you lo-"  
"I am aware of that, Meryl" Millie interrupted, "But now that I've found him again, I won't lose him. No matter what he is."  
Speaking of the devil, a shadow passed over the girls. They both looked up, fearfully, into the dead eyes of Millie's new bodyguard.  
Wolfwood said nothing, merely raised his weapon.  
"NO!" Millie cried, watching in horror as a bullet tore mercilessly through the tender flesh of Meryl's shoulder.  
Meryl cried out in pain, falling backwards and hitting her rump on the hard floor of the hallway.  
"Meryl!!!" Millie screamed.  
A simple shoulder wound, however, would not daunt Meryl. She forced herself to her feet, raising her own weapon, aiming carefully for Wolfwood's head.  
"You can't!" Millie screamed, slapping the barrel of the weapon. The bullet found its way into a defenseless wall, instead. The pain of it made Meryl wince. The bastard had shot her firing arm.  
"Damn it Millie! You have to accept that this is not your Wolfwood!"  
"Go and get help, Meryl" Millie replied, her voice suddenly deathly calm.  
Their opponent obviously had no interest in their conversation. He began shoving Millie back into her room. Meryl raised her weapon again, but didn't fire as she spotted the warning in Millie's eyes.  
"Go back to the town, and get help. You have to find someone who can get both of us out of here."  
"Millie, no!" Meryl watched helplessly as the tall figure of Wolfwood latched the door, then turned back to her.  
Meryl's eyes widened as she watched the silver weapon once again train itself on her body. The pain from the previous bullet wound was beginning to take effect as well. She could feel the blood dripping down her skin from inside her shirt. She tried to raise her gun, but the pain from her shoulder prevented it. The gun slid helplessly from her grasp, clattering on the floor. Meryl's eyes rose, locked with the empty eyes before her. Grimly, she accepted her fate.  
  
"Wolfwood.please, don't do this" Millie pleaded from inside her room, pounding her fist on the door. She had hoped Meryl would run away. She saw now what a foolish hope it was. There was also some faint hope that Wolfwood would come to his senses and realize he was about to shoot a friend. She cursed herself for believing so much in what was obviously no more than a shell. She pounded more frantically, screaming at Wolfwood, pleading for him to stop. Not to kill her best friend, his friend as well.  
Wolfwood hesitated, for a fraction of a second. Something flashed in his eyes. Then, it was gone. His finger pulled the trigger.  
Two shots rang out in the hallway. Two shots, from two separate guns.  
And then, silence. 


	6. The Language of Flowers

This is just a little teaser before I go to work ^_^ Mwahahaha. Again: tons and tons and tons of thanks to all the super nice people who left me such nice reviews. I'm so happy! Thank you thank you! You guys just keep on making my day =)  
  
-*-*-*  
  
Not even the sound of breathing penetrated the thick silence smothering the occupants of the war-torn hallway. Meryl wasn't even sure she still was breathing. She had heard the gunfire. She was sure she was dead. Wolfwood wouldn't miss twice. Like a true coward, she had squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look her own death in the face.  
But why, then, hadn't anything happened? She had felt no pain. Perhaps it had killed her quick. Or perhaps...it hadn't killed her at all.  
The silence was penetrated by a scream. High-pitched, frightened, the scream came from a woman: Millie.  
Cautiously, Meryl opened her eyes, took a breath. The scene before her, however, took that breath away.  
Blood. Seeping out through the black of Wolfwood's jacket, staining the fabric to an even darker shade. Millie, on her knees, her face in her hands, weeping. Wolfwood, his eyes wide in shock, fell to the floor, breathing shallowly.  
Meryl was lost. Her revolver still lay on the carpet. Its twin was buried safely in her holster. Obviously, she did not attack Wolfwood. The injury in shoulder, in addition to her lack of weapons, had made sure of that.  
Comprehension returned as the fear of immediate death receded. With it, came the pain of having been shot. She grasped her shoulder, her air hissing through her teeth. She could feel blood oozing onto her fingers. Tears stung her eyes. She had never been shot before.  
But what had happened? How could Wolfwood have been shot?  
She could feel her energy receding. The world began to waver unsteadily. She did, however, pick up on the sound of scuffling feet behind her.  
She turned, her vision blurry. Her heart raced. She feared it was Legato, come to finish her off, as he had Wolfwood.  
Her breathing was irregular. She knew she was losing consciousness, and she couldn't stop it. She didn't want to stop it. She was too tired. There was so much pain...  
As Meryl began to crumple to the floor, all she was was a blur of red.  
  
Determination and...courage.... 


	7. A Moment in Time

It's the happy moments in life, interwoven into the pain, that make everything worthwhile. In the meantime, though, I still don't own Trigun.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
A gentle breeze called to Meryl through the wispy blankets of her unconsciousness. She sighed softly, a contented noise, and snuggled deeper into the warmth she had found. Or, rather, had found her.  
The breeze blew Meryl's bangs across her nose, tickling it ever so gently. It brought her further toward the land of the awake, but Meryl didn't want to wake up yet. It was so much nicer in the land of dreams.  
Life had a different schedule, however. A loud bang made Meryl's eyes fly open with sudden, unexpected consciousness. The light flowing into the room was all too bright for her tastes, however, and she snapped them back shut in less than a split second. A groan escaped her lips.  
Logic returned. She began to wonder just where exactly she was. From the sliver of glimpse that she had gotten of the room, she could tell that this was not one of the rooms in the ranch house. Or at least not any of the rooms she had seen. It was bigger. Cracking one eye, she allowed it to adjust to the bright noonday light, and then opened it further. She repeated the process with the other eye.  
She was lying on her back. From the lowered point of view, all she could really see was the basic layout of the room. It was a standard hotel room size. It had a closet, bed (obviously), table, and a small kitchen. There was a chair right next to her bed.  
Slowly she began to sit up. She sank back now quickly, though, as pain rushed through her. She suddenly remembered her shoulder wound. The wound, she noticed, was now carefully bandaged. This made her realize something else: her red shirt was missing. A shirt in general was missing. All she had on was her.well, her unmentionable.  
A blush crept into her cheeks and blazed there at the realization that whoever had cared for her wound had also stripped her of her shirt. Still, it was obviously just to better care for her wound.  
The door to the room opened. Meryl gasped, grasping blindly for a blanket and yanking it up to her chin, held there by a white-knuckled grasp on it that involved both hands.  
What surprised her even more was who strode into her room.  
First she noticed the all too familiar red coat. Then the hair: the stick straight, painfully upright blonde hair. Meryl was sure her eyes couldn't get any bigger.  
Vash seemed startled to see a pair of violet gray eyes staring at him, as if they were seeing a ghostly visage. Silence hung in the air, choking them both of words. Vash had planned what he was going to say to her a million times, and yet the sight of her like that tossed all his planned out explanations out the window.  
"Oh hey! You're awake!" Vash said stupidly, suddenly remembering the brown paper sack clutched carefully in his strong arms. "I was wondering how long you were going to be out. You must be hungry. I'm not much of a cook, but I can make a mean soup!"  
Meryl hadn't said anything. She was afraid to. Afraid that if she opened her mouth she would scream, or worse: that it would make this whole scene real.  
"How do you feel, Meryl?" Vash asked softly, shame showing clearly in his eyes.  
Meryl couldn't take it. It was all too much. Tears, unbidden, came to her eyes, overflowed down her cheeks like an unchecked river. A small sob escaped her lips, followed by another, and another.  
Vash moved over to her, concern now mixing with his shame. Without conscious thought, he reached out, took her into his arms, enfolding her in the safe circle of them. He was careful of her injury. She continued to sob. She even leaned into him slightly, which warmed him all over. His arms tightened around her. Her hands dropped the blanket, lashing out to wrap around him, pulling her to him as if he would disappear if she didn't. His hands moved up and down her back slowly in a comforting gesture. His good hand could feel the softness of her skin quite clearly. It rang out to his senses, in fact. But he pointedly ignored that.  
Slowly, Meryl regained her composure. She also became conscious of her lack of shirt, and she pulled away from him quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through her shoulder because of it. She still reached for the blanket and pulled it up to where her undergarment wasn't exposed, however.  
"Vash.what are you doing here?" Meryl asked quietly, her voice still shaking with the force of her tears. Her eyes met his, the pain in them striking Vash like a dagger to the heart.  
"Why, I came to rescue you!" He said, trying to sound cheerful. He stood, made his way back to the little stove to begin working on the soup.  
"You really do need to eat something"  
The sound of pots and pans banging around as Vash dug for a suitable soup container rang in Meryl's ears. This whole situation seemed to be a dream: a dream that she didn't want to wake up from. Still, there were so many things she needed to know.  
"Why?"  
"Why do you need to eat? Because you've been out for two days. And besides, you need food to stay health-"  
"Why did you rescue me?"  
"Well."  
"Why did you decide to make an appearance after two years? Did you suddenly start to care again? Or did you get bored in your wanderings?"  
"Oh, Meryl."  
Vash moved over to the bed again. She scooted away, anger and hurt showing as clearly in her eyes as it would've been on a movie screen.  
"I.I don't suppose you'd accept an apology-"  
She snorted.  
"--When I came back, I couldn't risk putting you and Millie in danger. I had to care for Knives. I didn't know what he would do when he woke up. I couldn't lose you, or Millie."  
"That seems to be your excuse for everything, Vash. You can't stay because it's 'dangerous'. I think that you just.just."  
How many times had she wanted to tell him off? She had planned it all out nicely in her head. She would run into him in some dusty little town, and give him a piece of her mind. But now, sitting here, with those patient aqua eyes staring at her with apology written all over them, she just couldn't tear into him like she had wanted to.  
Vash sighed, turning his back on her and moving to check on the soup.  
"I knew you'd be angry. I tried to write, you know. But as soon as I got a few words into it I'd tear it up in disgust. I had no right to just leave you and Millie. I guess I just kind of assumed you would go back home. That you would live a normal life, without Vash the Stampede around to mess it up"  
There was silence. Meryl seemed to be thinking.  
"We waited, you know. For months." She paused, thinking, before letting it all out in a rush, "I used to go out and sit on that god forsaken well every morning and stare at the gates, hoping to see a lanky blonde figure approaching them. But there never was. Never. And after a while, my hope began to slip. It took me months to realize that the humanoid typhoon just didn't care enough to come back."  
"But. But that wasn't it at all!" Vash cried passionately, causing Meryl to look up at him again. A ladle was in his hand, held upright like a weapon. As if he could use it to slice through the lies she had buried herself under. Meryl looked away quickly, deciding instead to take in the thread of the blanket that covered her.  
"I've checked up on you occasionally, you know."  
Meryl blinked.  
"What?"  
"Oh, nothing" Vash was blushing now, the red of his face contrasting sharply with the blonde of his hair.  
Meryl stared, trying not to think about how cute he was when he blushed. Then it dawned on her:  
"You were the one who left me the present in my hotel room!"  
Silence. Vash was blushing all the worse. He resembled a spiky-haired beet now. Turning to face her, albeit shyly, his hand came up to scratch the back of his head.  
"Heh.yeah, I guess I was"  
Meryl was silent. She felt like her head was going to explode from the overdose of information that she had received, just as it had felt when she was still trapped in Legato's 'fortress'.  
A bowl of soup came into her line of vision. She looked up to Vash, who was holding a spoon in the other hand, and grinning like an idiot. His skin was starting to turn back to his original shade.  
"To tell you the truth, I was kind of worried."  
He handed her the soup, which she dutifully began to sip at. She seemed to realize just how hungry she was, because suddenly she was guzzling it. Vash settled himself down into the chair next to her bed.  
"I was worried that when you saw me you were either going to scream at me, or hit me. Actually.considering how silent you've been, I think I would've kind of preferred if you had."  
Meryl finished her soup, wiping the excess from the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. Her movements were slow. She seemed to be searching for the right words to say. Vash wished she would just say something; anything, really. He had anticipated the angry, violent Meryl; he hadn't anticipated this Meryl. She looked so worn from the last time he had seen her. The light in her eyes seemed to have receded a bit, leaving the gray a bit more dominant. Vash knew she was hurt. He also knew that he was partially responsible for the pain. Oh, but how he wanted to just reach out, hold her, protect her.  
"Ghosts." Meryl whispered.  
"What?"  
"I feel like.an old part of my life has come back to life. But, at the same time, it's still a ghost to me. I worked so hard to bury you. I didn't want to think about you, because it just hurt. I had kind of known that you wouldn't come back, anyway. I'm just the boring, moody insurance girl. I'm nothing in comparison to the humanoid typhoon. What did I have that would make you want to come back? Nothing. Absolutely nothing."  
There were the tears again. Every droplet from her eyes seemed like a droplet of his blood, hurting him in places unseen to the eye, but detectable by the heart.  
"Meryl."  
"No. Don't apologize. You don't have to. I was the one stupid enough to have hope that you would come back" She swiped angrily at the tears still flowing down her cheeks. "You didn't need to come back, anyway."  
The tone in her voice told him different.  
"But I wanted to come back, Meryl" Vash thought. "Because I..I."  
Meryl squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the sight of him. Just seeing him hurt. "I'm fine now, actually. It seems my wound is healing nicely. I don't really.don't really think I need your help anymore"  
Vash stared at her. It was a dismissal, if he had ever heard one. But underneath that calm exterior Vash could hear the roar of the storm. She was hurting like crazy. The wounds to her heart were still bleeding, and Vash had every intention of healing them too. He wouldn't leave, not this time.  
Daringly, Vash reached out again to enfold her to him. He winced at how quickly she stiffened, but didn't let go.  
"No"  
"What do you mean no?"  
"As in: no, Meryl, I'm not going anywhere."  
"Vash." Meryl squeaked. She could feel her defenses falling, and it scared her that he could get past them so quickly "Please, don't do this"  
In response, he only held her tighter. It was the only thing he could do. He couldn't speak right now. He wanted badly to tell her how much she meant to him, how haunted he was when she was gone. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened, and about how he had thought of her everyday for the past two years. But he couldn't. Not yet. He wasn't even sure she felt the same way. It was too fragile, too early. Like glass, he was afraid it would break. So he contented himself to holding her, feeling her heartbeat, inhaling the soft scent of her. He was overjoyed simply to be in her presence, so he enjoyed it to the fullest.  
Meryl realized that her attempts at resistance were futile. He took up every one of her senses. Slowly, she relaxed against him, even went so far as to rest her head against his shoulder.  
Her heart was beating ridiculously fast. She tried to will it to stop. It wouldn't listen, of course. Vash the Stampede, the man who had held her heart for years, was actually hugging her! Of course, it had to be just a friend thing. There was no way that Vash actually felt the same way about her. Meryl wouldn't let herself believe it. She couldn't. She would just be letting herself get all riled up for a huge let down. Instead, she resolved herself to simply enjoy the moment for what it was: a friend's attempt at comfort.  
Vash smiled into her hair when he felt her relax. Good. At least she wasn't getting ready to claw his eyes out. Simply holding her in his arms was amazing. He could feel his heart swell. How long had he imagined a moment like this? He had not felt love this strong since Rem. And with Rem, it had been different. Rem was his idol. She was a mother figure to him. With Meryl it was entirely different. He felt the need to be beside her always. To protect her when she needed it, laugh with her when she didn't.  
"So this is what all those poems meant" He whispered.  
"Hmm?" Meryl responded.  
"What? Oh, nothing. Just getting lost in thought."  
"Mmm."  
Meryl felt all too comfortable. It felt too natural, being in his arms. She was letting herself enjoy it. What happened when he left again? She was back to scare one. Nursing the wounds of his rejection and sobbing when no one was around. She would be alone again: totally, cruelly alone. It scared her. Still, it was so nice right now. Maybe she could just let herself enjoy it. She snuggled into him. She was still weary, and reclining like this was making her drowsy.  
Continuing to smile, Vash tenderly wrapped the blanket about Meryl's shoulder, conscious of her need for modesty. He had been blushing to the roots of his hair when he had to remove her shirt, but it needed to be done. He had tenderly, and very gently cleaned the wound. The bullet had gone clean through, which was a relief. Still, patching up the object of his affection had proven a lot harder than healing a fellow gunman. Lucky for Vash he knew a few tricks of the trade. He had to, really, considering the path that he had chosen. Err.the path that had chosen him, really. After he had insured that the wound wasn't infected or in any immediate danger of harming Meryl's well being, he had tried his best to wash the shirt free of the blood. He would leave Meryl to sew up the bullet hole in it, though, because when it came to sewing the needle wound up in his skin more often than in the cloth.  
The content sigh that escaped Meryl undid Vash. Suddenly he felt empowered. It was as if the entire world had been lifted from his shoulders by a little mayfly named love. He felt so silly, but so alive. And brave. Suddenly, he felt very brave.  
"Meryl.I love you" Vash stated boldly.  
There was silence. It quickly unraveled Vash's feelings of adequacy.  
"Um, Meryl?"  
Leaning forward, Vash stared down at Meryl. Her breathing was even, her face showing a considerably less amount of stress. Very quickly, Vash realized something. His wooing had been ineffective, not because Meryl hadn't been pleasantly surprised. Instead, she had fallen fast asleep.  
  
-*-*-*-*  
  
Mwahaha! Fluff! FLUFF! Lots and lots of fluff! Don't act like you don't like it. If you could though, I would appreciate some reviews on how you thought this scene turned out. Please? I'll give you an ice cream bar! 


	8. Reality's End

Meryl awoke to an empty room the next morning. For a moment, her delirious mind wondered if the whole thing hadn't just been a dream, conjured up by all her loneliness. But she knew that wasn't true. Vash was really here. He had really come back. And what's more, he had held her.  
Where, then, was he now? Meryl sat up with a sigh. She had had the most wonderful dream when she had fallen back to sleep. Vash had said he loved her. Loved her like she loved him. She snorted. It was an impossible hope. And thinking on it would get her nowhere.  
Gingerly, Meryl eased herself from the bed. She had been dormant the last few days, and her legs knew it. She wobbled, but caught herself. Breathe in, breathe out, and take it slow, she told herself. It didn't take long for her to regain her center of gravity, and she roamed freely around the room. The first thing she did was retrieve her shirt (which still had a rip in the shoulder), which had been slung over a chair. She seemed to have forgotten about her wound, and when it flexed, pain shot up and down her arm, centered in her shoulder. She cried out.  
The door flew open as soon as her cry escaped her lips. There stood her red-clad hero, ready to take on the world. Instead, her hero found an amusing scene in front of him. Meryl, her face as red as his coat, was struggling in vain to get the shirt on without further hurting herself.  
Without conscious thought, Vash moved over to help her. She began to back away, but one stern look from the usually goofy outlaw and she stilled. Gently, he grabbed hold of the material, easing it down carefully. He gently moved her arm, making her wince, but the pain gradually subsided. Soon she was safely into her own clothing.  
"Thank you" Meryl whispered to the floor, her face as red as before.  
Faking anger, Vash waggled his finger at her "You know, you shouldn't be so careless with yourself when you have an injury like that. You could make it worse."  
Meryl stared. Then, she smiled, and nodded faintly. Vash was surprised she hadn't fought with him.  
Silence.  
"Oh, uh, I." Vash stuttered  
Meryl's eyes stared into his.  
"I bought some doughnuts for breakfast! Why don't you come out and have some? It'll be good for you to get some fresh air"  
"You sound like my mother"  
Vash laughed. The sound of it made Meryl's heart beat a little bit faster. She allowed herself to be led from the room, down to a small café that was attached to the hotel.  
On a small table was a strategically placed bag of fresh made donuts.  
"I had been hoping you'd be awake" Vash said sheepishly.  
"How long had you been outside my room?"  
"Oh.. an hour or two, I guess."  
Meryl was deathly confused as to why Vash would suddenly care so much.  
"Well, let's eat!" He said cheerfully, digging about in the bag for one of his prizes from the days shopping.  
Silently, she watched him devour the deep fried cake, though she ate none of them herself.  
"You need to eat, Meryl"  
"Where are my guns, Vash?"  
Vash about choked on a piece of donut (wouldn't that be an ironic way for him to go).  
"Oh, those. I guess I can't call you derringer Meryl anymore, huh?"  
"Where are they?"  
"Why?"  
"Millie and Wolfwood are still out there. And Wolfwood is still.. well, he's still not what he used to be. I'm afraid of what they'll do to her if we-I don't go back"  
Vash was silent. Crumbs fell from his mouth unheeded. He leaned back in the chair with a sigh.  
"Always so straight-forward, eh? Your guns are safe; I just figured it was safer to keep them away from you so you didn't shove one up my nose whenever I walked into the room. And don't worry. I intend to go back there."  
"You? What about me?"  
Vash rapped his fingers on the table. He knew she was going to be angry.  
"You are not a direct part of this. It's me that Legato wants."  
"ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT I CAN'T GO WITH YOU?!"  
Vash blinked. He forced back a smile.  
"Of course not. I need a good driver to get me there. Maybe even some backup. I can't think of anyone better than derrin-err; I guess I'll have to call you Pistol-whip Stryfe now."  
Meryl smiled.  
"But we can't go back there with your shoulder in the condition its in now, so we'll have to wait. That is, if you don't mind being stuck in this little town with the humanoid typhoon."  
"You know, I think I'll survive"  
That night found Meryl sitting silently upon the front porch of the hotel. Earlier in the evening she had taken a walk by herself through town, trying to think everything through. She had failed.  
Now she simply contented herself to stare at the stars. They had always comforted her as a child, though she wasn't sure why. Whenever she was discomforted, she would gaze into the blackness of the night and its tiny bursts of light, and she would feel a lot better. Tonight she seemed to need it most.  
She was immensely grateful that Vash wasn't going to leave her behind this time. However, it also frightened her. What if she just ended up getting in the way? She didn't want that. Still, she also didn't want to be left behind in the dust, waiting to know what happened.  
The sound of heavy footsteps on the porch awoke Meryl from her daydreaming. She looked up to see a looming shadow standing over her.  
Vash settled his weight onto the bench next to her.  
"Were you looking at the stars?"  
Meryl blushed "err, yeah. I seem to do so a lot, when I'm stressed. It's a good way for me to clear my head."  
"They're beautiful, aren't they?"  
Meryl became intensely distracted from what she was doing. He was taking her over again. His hair, muted almost white in the sparse moonlight, was as stick-straight as ever. And yet, her fingers itched to run through it. His hand was inches from hers. She had only to reach over.  
Meryl realized the silence had stretched on for too long. She then realized that he had asked her a question.  
"What? Oh. The stars. Yes, they are"  
Vash was lost in thought. Meryl turned back to the stars, trying to immerse herself in their endless depths. She couldn't, though. Vash's presence was like an anchor, keeping her in this world.  
"Meryl, I'm happy to see you again"  
Meryl stared at Vash.  
"I.I'm happy to see you too"  
He smiled. He seemed content with that. His aqua eyes were on her now. Staring into her, as if he knew the workings of her soul and wasn't ashamed of them. Her heart started beating at an insane pace. Was it just her, or was his face actually getting closer?  
Then she realized something: he was getting closer! But why?  
He wouldn't be.  
But he was.  
Strong arms encircled her, pulled her closer while being careful of her shoulder.  
Meryl's eyes were about to pop out of her head.  
He stopped when their lips were inches apart.  
"Meryl, would you slap me if I kissed you?"  
Meryl could only shake her head madly.  
The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile. And then, like a violent storm crashing into the shore, the lips of the legendary gunman met those of the boring old insurance girl.  
Meryl couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. His lips were surprisingly soft, pressed into hers as if their lips were made to fit together as perfectly as this. But that was insane. This whole situation was insane! He had just come back into her life a few days ago. This was all so fast, so soon, so.  
"Shut up, Meryl" Her own mind told her.  
She did. She returned the kiss. His lips slanted on hers, deepening the connection between them. Sparks were flying at a dangerous rate. Meryl's arm (the one lacking a shoulder wound) reached out to snake around his thin body. His hands rubbed her back in slow, gentle circles.. Her pulse raced madly, her own heartbeat drumming in her ears.  
"My god" She thought, "Vash the Stampede is actually kissing me!" 


	9. Call to Duty

Well, I'm back! Where did I go, you ask? I went to summer camp for my last year! (tear) and I can honestly say that I look beat up. I have a bruise that goes all the way up my upper arm and is varying shades of purple, plus many other bruises all over my arms and legs. But hey, all had fun, and that's all that matters. So, sorry about the delay on this chapter: here we go!  
  
Sentences surrounded by '//' are thought speech, by the way.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl's descent into consciousness was slow and content. A smile crossed her face as she woke up. The sunlight streaming through the open window didn't faze her. In fact, she welcomed it with an even bigger smile.  
That was when she noticed something: she had three legs! One of which was covered with loose sweatpants. Actually, she had four legs, now that she turned her head to look more closely.  
Meryl gasped as she came to the realization that, in actuality, she wasn't alone in her bed. She turned her head, ready to clobber the intruder. She stopped instantly when her livid gaze took in the sleeping form beside her.  
Meryl's heart stopped.  
His hair fell in his eyes during his slumber. His face was actually void of the usual torment that he carried during the day.  
But what, Meryl wondered, was Vash the Stampede doing in her bed?  
Meryl began to panic. She hadn't done anything she shouldn't have, did she? She thought back desperately to the night before.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
After the unexpected kiss, both Vash and Meryl had leaned back, staring at the other as if they faced a stranger. Then Vash smiled, and Meryl followed suit. Gently reaching out, he drew Meryl close, and she went willingly to lay her head against his shoulder, while his arms enfolded her tenderly.  
"I've wanted to do that for a long time." Vash whispered, his breath warm against her ear.  
She stared up at him quizzically "Liar" she accused "You didn't even notice me for the longest time"  
"Well, I WAS a little.distracted for a while.. but you grew on me.and soon I couldn't get you out of my head."  
Meryl smiled. She didn't want to argue. She just wanted to be happy. They fell into a comfortable silence. Meryl felt Vash's lips graze the top of her head, and she smiled, snuggling closer. This was so uncharacteristic of her. Where had her control gone? She was usually so rigid. But Vash had taken down her confrontational nature (which she used as a shield against people) as easily as if he were snapping a Popsicle stick. It worried her. It had been too easy to fall in love with him.  
Wait. Fall in love? Meryl Stryfe did not fall in love. She was too down to earth for that. She just liked him a lot, that's all. She found him attractive. Yes, that must be it. Still, there was that little voice telling her that she had never felt like this. That maybe this could be that emotion she had been so afraid of for so long. She chose to ignore it for now, though.  
Soon she was getting tired. It had been a very long day, and her exhaustion had caught up with her.  
Vash glanced down at Meryl as they sat in silence. He saw that her eyes were half closed, and how she was struggling to remain alert. He smiled, and stood, sweeping her up into his arms as easily as carrying a rag doll. But he didn't carry her with a doll. Instead, he carried her as one might carry some rare artifact. He held her like she was the most precious object in the world.  
Still, Meryl was not pleased.  
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Her shell masked her shock, and the hint of pleasure that warmed her cheeks.  
"You're tired. I'm taking you to bed."  
The innuendo in his sentence made her blush profusely. She was all too glad that it was dark.  
"B-but I'm perfectly capable of walking up there myself"  
His grin took on a wolfish character "Probably, but it's so much more fun to carry you"  
Meryl stamped out her protests. She liked this, she decided. He swept her into the hotel, up the stairs to her room. Nobody was around to notice, which she was grateful for. She couldn't believe she was allowing herself to be toted around like some food sack.  
With a bang, her door was open. She blushed as they entered her room. This was way too intimate for comfort. Of course, all things considered, they had already made out on the front porch.  
With loving care, Vash laid her down on her bed. Meryl's blush deepened, but rather than start something Meryl wasn't sure she wanted yet, Vash moved to take off her shoes, letting them thump to the floor.  
Meryl bit her tongue as a nasty retort burbled up her throat.  
However: when Vash started to lean in close, Meryl stopped breathing.  
He kissed her again. This kiss was slower... MUCH slower. He took his time, as if memorizing the feel of her lips against his. She felt his tongue slide across her lower lip, almost teasing. Her lips parted. He dove inside. Tongue touched tongue, almost seemed to dance around each other. Her arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer, not seeming to be aware of what she was doing. His hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her head.  
Meryl didn't think, she merely felt. Everything felt so perfect. No other kiss turned her upside down like this did. She savored the feel of it, without worrying about what would happen tomorrow. She simply lived in the moment.  
Then quick as it came, Vash broke away. His lips pressed to her forehead, then they were gone. Too far out of her territory. Meryl's breathing was harsh as she realized that she hadn't taken a breath since their kiss had begun. Vash was grinning devilishly.  
Then he left. He simply walked out of her room. Meryl stared after him, unsure of what to think of it. The empty doorway gave her no answers, so she rolled over onto her side, trying to squash the feeling in her heart that felt almost like disappointment.  
She was almost asleep when her senses picked up on a shadow draped across her. Her eyes flared open, stared in open-mouthed shock at the figure now crawling into bed beside her.  
"Vash! What. what are you doing?" Was all she could get out.  
Vash said nothing. He merely laid down facing her, and drew her speechless form into his arms. He had changed from his red coat to his baggy nightclothes. That must have been why he left temporarily.  
But Meryl wasn't letting him get away without an explanation as to why he was invading her room. She began to squirm, trying to get away.  
Vash sighed. "Lonely." he muttered.  
"What?"  
"Lonely. My life is very lonely, Meryl. Every night I go to bed thinking about all the people I've lost. I'm haunted by all the sadness that's so constantly around me. I close my eyes and see the hate that people have for each other. When I sleep, I have vicious nightmares. They remind me of everything that's happened. They try to make me believe that it's my entire fault. Sometimes the pain grows to the point that I wonder how it is I'll go on. But."  
Meryl was silently listening to this, her eyes changing from anger to concern. On top of the shock that he was so close to her, she was now shocked at how easily he was opening up to her.  
"But what?" She prodded gently, her hand resting gently on his chest, right above his heart.  
"But.when I look into your eyes. when I'm surrounded by your presence. it all goes away. I no longer hear the voices of hate and sadness. The torment goes away. I'm free to be happy. And I am. When I'm around you, I'm always happy"  
Meryl was speechless. His eyes were gazing into hers with such sincerity. Such.love?  
"I didn't want to go back to my room, back to the darkness I usually live in. Please, Meryl. I don't want anything from you tonight but the opportunity to watch you sleep"  
Lamely, she nodded. She couldn't think of anything else to say. She was afraid that if she attempted to speak, that she would choke up. She couldn't believe the way he was talking to her. He seemed like such a different person. But she had to admit that she loved this side of him. Come to think of it, she loved all the sides of him. Alarms went off. There was that love thing again. There was no sense in feeling such a strong thing for someone who didn't feel the same way. And anyway, Meryl Stryfe didn't fall in love.  
Vash was smiling now. He was beaming, really. She could almost imagine rivers of happy tears flowing down his face. Hell, he looked happier than he had at having a bag of fresh donuts.  
Once again she was enfolded in his long arms. She let it happen, even going as far as wrapping her own arms around him.  
Her head came to rest against his chest, where she listened to the steady beating of his heart beneath her ear. A sense of peace spread over her. A lazy smile graced her lips. This was nice.  
"Meryl?" His voice rumbled in her ear, as it was pressed to his body.  
"Yeah Vash?"  
He pushed her back far enough that he could stare in her eyes. His expression was suddenly serious. It made Meryl fall into a serious mood as well. She was suddenly feeling quite nervous.  
"The last time I told you this, you were too deep in sleep to hear me."  
Meryl had to wonder why her heart was threatening to beat right out of her chest.  
"Meryl.."  
Time had slowed down. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. And then the bomb dropped.  
"I love you"  
Alarms rang in her head, threatening to deafen her. This isn't real, she thought. It can't be. It was.it was.  
It was exactly what she wanted to hear. Now that she thought about it, she had always wanted to hear those words from him. And now that she'd heard them, she wasn't really sure how to react. She didn't even realize that she was staring in slack-jawed amazement.  
Vash flushed at her silence. "I know. I'm as surprised about it as you are. I don't. experience love that often. Sure, I chase after some girls. Ok, maybe a lot of them. And once, I loved Rem. But with you.it's different. It's a lot different. And it took me forever to figure out what exactly it was I was feeling. And even then, it was difficult-"  
"Vash." Meryl cut him off. Her voice was only a whisper. Before she knew what she was doing, she had said the unthinkable.  
"I love you too"  
Now it was Vash's turn to stare at Meryl in disbelief. He briefly wondered if his ears weren't betraying him. His doubts were swept up in the most incredible wave of happiness that he had known since.ever, really.  
"You do? You really, really do? Truly?" He sounded like a little boy. Meryl could only smile and nod. The response from Vash was a hug that almost crushed her ribs.  
"This is truly a great day!" He cried, squeezing the woman he loved with all he had. He stopped at her squeak of discomfort though, and instead took the initiative to rain kisses down onto her beautiful face.  
She was laughing. She couldn't believe it. She hadn't felt this happy in a painfully long time. And what was worse was that she felt no restraint in this. She was simply reveling in the moment. Letting herself be loved, and loving in return. Perhaps Meryl Stryfe could fall in love after all.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl was bright red at the memories. She couldn't believe the way she had acted last night. It was so unorthodox for her. And what if Vash hadn't been serious? Or he had just been acting on a whim and needing some comfort?  
One look at his happy face told Meryl that wasn't true. He seemed so much brighter than usual. He actually seemed free from the usual night torments he went through.  
Gently, her finger traced his strong jaw line, admiring his beautiful features. Her fingers sifted through his droopy blonde hair, marveling at its softness. She had to smile to herself. How long had she wanted to do this? To think, Vash the Stampede had actually fallen asleep in her arms last night, and she in his. It boggled her mind. Love did strange things.  
Love. Yes, she was in love. She was becoming unafraid to admit it now. She loved the man sleeping beside her with a force so powerful it gave her a new source of strength.  
A hand came up to close around her wandering fingers. It was brought down to soft lips, which pressed to her palm. She flushed.  
"Good morning" Vash smiled, his aquamarine eyes shining at her sleepily.  
"Good morning" She returned, a shy smile softening her features.  
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Vash sat up, pulling Meryl close to him.  
"Meryl," His voice sounded almost frightened, "Did you really mean what you said last night?"  
"Of course I did, Vash. I wouldn't joke around with a thing like that. You were serious too, weren't you?"  
In answer, Vash kissed her. He kissed her, and he kissed her, until she was breathless and didn't have another doubt left in her head.  
Meryl felt free. She felt alive. She felt.full. It was as if a gap in her soul had suddenly been filled up by the love of this crazy outlaw.  
She wondered briefly if this was how Millie felt about Wolfwood.  
Meryl's eyes widened.  
"Oh my god! Millie!"  
Startled, Vash looked around the room "What? What is it?"  
Shame washed over. In her ignorant bliss she had completely forgot that Millie was pent up with that psycho Legato, and the new Wolfwood. It was disgusting of her. Millie was her best friend. They had been through so much together. And Millie had been there for her so many times.  
"I forgot. I completely forgot about Millie!! We have to go! We have to go rescue her!"  
Vash pulled Meryl back down as Meryl attempted to leap from the bed.  
"Don't worry. I have a plan. I haven't forgotten about Millie and Wolfwood. But I do think you're right. We have to go. Legato won't wait forever."  
With a quick kiss on the lips, Vash stood. He smiled at her lopsidedly.  
"I'm going to go change and pack. I'll meet you downstairs in 10 minutes"  
Those 10 minutes found a frantic Meryl dressing and putting on both her holsters and her pistols. She was afraid. Both of what she would find there, and just what exactly she was going to do when she got there. But Vash had said he had a plan. She was determined to trust him.  
She met him at the bottom of the stairs. He pressed a set of keys into her hand.  
"Ready to go?" He asked. She merely smiled, and nodded. The pair moved onto the front porch of the hotel.  
//You honestly intend to take her with you?//  
Vash stopped dead in his tracks. The echo of the voice rang through his head. But it wasn't Legato that was speaking to him now. It was.  
//Knives! You're awake!! //  
//Not quite, dear brother, but I am almost at my original strength. In fact, I should be healed by the time you get back here.//  
//Knives.I may not be coming back for another little while.I have some business to take care of.//  
Vash heard laughter sing through his mind.  
//I will be waiting for you at the ranch house. Legato will be kind enough to show you in.//  
//The ranch house? But I left you in.//  
//Yes, you left me in that insufferable, tiny village. You left me there to rot while you dawdled with that HUMAN of yours.//  
//Knives.//  
//It doesn't matter. She's just a spider. And she will die like the rest of them. Perhaps sooner than later.//  
Meryl stared at Vash. No matter how many times she called his name, he still continued to stand in the doorway, staring off at some distant point off the horizon. She was starting to get really worried. What was wrong with him?  
//Knives, if you intend to do anything to her.//  
//Are you seething with anger now that I've threatened your precious little predator? Don't make me laugh. She'll be all too easy to kill off.//  
//I swear if you lay one hand on her I'll.//  
//You'll what? You know as well as I how fragile these humans are. You bring her here, Vash, and I will kill her. This is between you and me.//  
"Vash?" Meryl called again. She was relieved to see she got a response from him. His dazzling smile lit up his face.  
"Are you alright?"  
"Of course! Just spaced off for a minute there," He draped an arm around her shoulders and led her in the direction of the little car he had, "Let's go rescue Millie and Wolfwood."  
"Yeah." Meryl smiled, obediently hopping into the driver's seat and starting the car. She watched Vash swing himself into the passenger seat, stretching out his long legs. Vash had undergone a transformation in the last few minutes. Meryl was suddenly scared.  
They rode in silence. Inwardly, Vash struggled. He had promised Meryl that she could come with him. But he knew that Knives would indeed stay true to his word. Meryl was no match for Knives. He could kill her easily. And Vash couldn't bare the thought of it.  
"I'll protect her," He thought, "No matter what it takes. I will not let her get hurt"  
A sense of foreboding fell on the both of them. Neither said a word, too wrapped up in their own fear. Instead, they watched the sands of the desert that stretched before them and counted off the too small amount of miles between them and the bowels of hell.  
Knives voice echoed through Vash's mind.  
"I'll be waiting"  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Next Chapter: Wolfwood and Millie 


	10. The Demon Within

This chapter was probably the hardest one for me to write, because I'm not as familiar with Millie/Wolfwood's mannerisms. Hopefully, though, I did all right. Let me know how you think I did! No flames, though, please! I have such fragile self-esteem. Constructive criticism is always welcome, though.  
  
It's kind of short, I know. The next one will be longer. Darn these 10 hour shifts at work!  
Also, one more A/N: I know that some of my formatting is crappy. It's what happens when I transfer from word to FF.net. It eats my ellipses. Also, it won't read italics or bold or anything, so I have to use CAPS for emphasis. Sorry about that  
  
For seemingly the thousandth time, Millie swiped at the grime on the window, trying to clean a bit of it off. Not that it mattered how clean the view was. Outside the window was nothing but desert, stretching on for miles before running into a jagged stretch of hills. Still, it was an improvement over her indoor surroundings. She refused to make contact with the man that sat ever silent in the corner, his head bowed.  
"I wonder where Meryl is," She idly said aloud. She hoped that Meryl was as far away from here as possible. Legato had evil plans for both her and Vash.  
Vash. Vash had shot Wolfwood. Not that Millie was angry. He had done what he had to do to save Meryl, who had passed out shortly there after. Millie was happy that Vash had come to rescue Meryl. She had always known that the two liked each other. They were just both too stubborn to admit it.  
"At least one of us will be happy," she said to herself, her gaze sliding to the idle figure still reclining in the corner, a loaded pistol at his hip. She sighed.  
"Millie" Vash had said, "Let's go"  
She had refused. She wouldn't leave him. Vash had been surprised at her refusal.  
"Millie, you can't stay here, they'll ki—"  
"I can't go, Vash. You know I can't. Would you leave Meryl?"  
His gaze had slid to the unconscious body now held in Millie's lap. Blood was beginning to seep into her skirt. Tears were in her eyes. Silently, Vash had nodded.  
"Get Meryl out of here, Vash," Millie smiled, "and please take care of her."  
Vash had done just that. He had gently picked Meryl's body up into his arms, and carried her from the house, but not before telling Millie that they would be back; for both of them.  
Millie had wondered why Legato had never shown himself during the whole thing. As soon as Vash and Meryl were gone he had come and taken away Wolfwood's body. Millie had been worried, but the next day Wolfwood had come back, good as new so to speak.  
"I guess he let them go because he knew they'd come back," Millie said, still talking aloud to herself, "But I sure hope they don't. I don't want Meryl or Mr. Vash to have to get into anymore trouble."  
The days had melded together after Vash had left. It became a dull routine. Wake up, eat, stare out the window, talk to Wolfwood (a one-sided conversation), and sleep.  
The food was the highlight of her day. Legato seemed to be a sucker for sweets, and he spared his prisoner some of his goodies. Everyday, Millie would hope it was pudding, but banana sundaes and cheesecake were just as good.  
Taking a piece of chocolate brown hair between her fingers, she held it up to eye level to inspect it. Same old Millie hair, but…  
"You know, I really wish they would let me take a shower or something. I'm starting to feel really dirty."  
"Dirty? You? Never."  
Millie's head jerked up, her attention instantly taken from the issue of her grungy hair. She turned to stare at the figure standing in the corner.  
Wolfwood's head was down. He seemed to be studying the carpet, nothing new about his mannerisms. But his voice; his voice had that same tone that it used to. Millie could feel her heart thumping against her rib cage. Could it be?  
Silence reigned in the room for several minutes. Her hope dripped away like a lighted candle as the seconds ticked away, until nothing but the wick remained. She must have been imagining things.  
After so long, she couldn't take the silence. Millie never had been good with quiet situations. She preferred to smooth over the uneasiness with a long string of what she deemed 'interesting' conversation.  
"I really wish I knew how my family was doing. Their letters stopped coming a couple of months after I stopped writing. I guess they think I've forgotten them. But I haven't; I couldn't, really."  
She paused.  
"I think I got used to writing, though. After I stopped writing to my family I started writing a journal. I always…"  
She paused again. Although she didn't know why, she was nervous.  
"…I always addressed my journal entries to you. I guess…I guess I had thought that maybe you would want to read them. That maybe you'd want to know what was going on."  
Unbidden, tears came to her eyes. She was getting emotional again. She had been very emotional while she was pregnant. Meryl had put up with it with a patience that had shocked Millie. There hadn't been a single argument. And then Millie had the miscarriage.  
"I think life likes to play tricks on me. It lets me get attached to something, and then it takes it away. It's not very fair…"  
Leaning forward, she let her forehead rest against the window. Millie had finally met her match. She just couldn't find any way to continue to be cheerful in this situation. Instead of smiling big and letting the world pass by on parade, she found herself in the middle of a rainstorm, with no clear outlook on when it was going to end; or even, if it was going to end.  
"I feel tired. I think I'll take a nap"  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Wolfwood watched silently as the girl curled up on her bed. She was crying again. The shaking of her shoulders made it obvious.  
He studied her. This girl was unbelievably strange. Always chattering away to fill the silence that seemed to bother her so.  
Not that it seemed to do her any good. Pretty soon the cheerful façade faded away, and she'd be crying again. Always wailing away like a wounded dog.  
What bothered Wolfwood was that it bothered him. It didn't bother him in the sense that it annoyed him. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, really. Just a strange tug in his chest anytime the sloppily hidden tears began to fall.  
He didn't understand it. He was simply commanded to watch this girl. So why did he care whether she sobbed her heart out on a daily basis or not? But strangely enough, he did.  
Wolfwood waited carefully, measuring the time between sobs. She was getting exhausted, as she always did. She couldn't keep up the heart- wrenching sobs for too long. He listened carefully, measuring the time between sobs as it grew longer and longer. It wasn't long before she was asleep.  
Still Wolfwood waited. He wasn't taking any chances. Especially considering what he was doing was extremely dangerous.  
When he was sure-VERY sure- that she was asleep, he left his position on the wall. He was almost surprised there wasn't a burnt-in imprint of himself, seeing as he stood there so long, and so often. His brown leather loafers made no sound as he moved across the floor to the curled up, sleeping form across the room.  
It seemed like an eternity before he was standing over her like some angel of death, his shadow sprawled across her tortured form. Even in sleep, her face wore the lines of someone who had seen enough blood to last a lifetime. It seemed so unlike her.  
Wait. What was he saying? He didn't even know this girl. How would he know what she was like?  
"Being locked up in this room is making me crazy," He mumbled to himself, his voice loud in the otherwise silent room.  
Still…  
There was a nag inside of him. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on that told him this was not the Millie that the world saw on a daily basis.  
Then again, she seemed to know him. Or at least she acted like she did. She spoke of naming a baby Nicholas. Or, rather, she said that she would have named it Nicholas. Was it her baby? Something inside him twitched at the thought: if it was, why was it only a 'would have' and not a 'did'?  
"I don't like this whole damn situation," He growled to himself. He had the sudden urge for a cigarette.  
He was about to walk away when another inward twitch forced him to stop. Millie let out a soft sigh. It was an innocent noise, but there was pain in it. Pain that Nicholas almost felt responsible for…  
Seemingly of its own accord, Wolfwood's hand reached out to touch a single strand of beautiful brown hair. His thumb smoothed over it, his senses reacting to its softness. He repeated the motion a few more times, before letting it drop back into the mess that was now sprawled out on her pillow.  
Wolfwood stared. He had seen that image before: but where?  
  
Brown hair shimmering in the moonlight…soft words of love whispered in the darkness…  
  
He stumbled back as if a hammer had struck him square in the chest. His breathing deepened. What was happening? Something was coming back. It was suddenly like another person was living inside of him. When had this happened?  
  
Blood. Blood everywhere. And screams. Somebody was screaming. Who? The sound hurt him. Took his heart and stomped on it. Why? His vision was fading. Darkness was everywhere. He was falling. Falling into oblivion.  
  
Wolfwood braced himself against a wall. His eyes were wide, wild like an animal. His gaze was intent on Millie, as if her sleeping form were the cause of his sudden madness.  
  
More blood. Not as much, but just as painful. It wasn't his pain though. The screaming was still there, though. It was the same voice. Millie? A hospital. It was so white. White, interrupted by stained sheets. Sheets stained by a dangerous red. And Millie was screaming; screaming, and crying. Her gaze was upward, her eyes wide, her mouth open in a wail; a death cry. She was clutching someone; someone in a white coat. Someone who told her "I'm sorry. It's gone. There's nothing we can do now". Gone? That can't be. It wasn't supposed to be like this.  
"No!" Millie was screaming, "No! Please no! Don't take my baby from me too!"  
"Millie, honey, I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to be alone…"  
  
Tearing at his own head, Wolfwood let out a cry that tore Millie from her slumber and caused her to bolt upright in bed. The scene before her startled her, rendering her unable to move, only to stare as Wolfwood sank to the floor, screaming, grabbing at his head as if something had crawled inside and was feasting.  
And that was exactly how Wolfwood felt. There was an invisible war being fought internally. One side was clashing with the other, clawing for control.  
Millie moved, acting on impulse. She bolted from her bed, knelt before him.  
"Wolfwood!" She shook his shoulders gently, worry painfully evident on her face.  
Her face: her beautiful, angelic face. The lighter side inside him fought forward. It started to win. But it hurt. There was so much pain.  
"Millie," he gurgled.  
"I'm here! Darling, I'm here!" Millie was so worried she didn't even notice her slip. She was frightened. What was happening?  
Wolfwood smiled. It turned Millie inside out, brought the millionth set of tears to waver her vision. It was HIS smile. That warm, loving smile that had the power to make Millie's insides turn to mush.  
Then it was gone, as Wolfwood's entire face went black. His eyes rolled back into his head as his body slumped forward, into Millie's waiting arms. 


	11. Legato's Story

Legato's Story

  


I had the inspiration for this as I was driving down the freeway to work one day. Lame, I know. As I was passing by a particularly noisy semi I suddenly thought "You know, they never mention Legato's past. I wonder what made him so psychotic?". Yes, I think about anime. Anyway, being the weirdo I am, I thought "Well shoot, I'll just write it myself!". So I have. And here it is!

Just consider this an intermission from the usual story.

  


-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Legato's gaze watched as another sandstorm blew against the sturdy glass pane of the window. The corners of his mouth were pulled up in a sadistic smile. His latest game had him almost excited. He couldn't wait to see the next act. And yet...

Nights like this always made him nostalgic. It brought back memories of things he never wished to remember, but that never ceased to come back to haunt him. 

Usually he ignored them, pushing them to the farthest corners of his mind. But tonight? Something in the air had him thinking. And since his captives were both...incapacitated at the moment, it gave him time to relive the past...

  


-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

  


My name is Legato Bluesummers. I am a hunter of man. One who searches for the elusive raven known as death. I could say I have killed hundreds without the slightest hint of exaggeration: and I enjoyed each and every one of them. Pain was my pleasure. Nothing quite brought a smile to my face like the sight of freshly harvested blood pouring across my fingertips.

I wasn't always this way, however. 

I was an orphan. I do not know what happened to my parents, only that I was raised by the streets. Perhaps they deserted me. Perhaps they were murdered. I often speculated what could have happened. I fantasized that someday they would come back, apologetic and pleading for forgiveness, and give me the home that I so badly longed for.

For the first five years of my life I was taken in by a bar maid, who spent her time off sleeping with any rich man that came her way. When I asked her why she did it, she merely shrugged, and told me that "it kept bread on the table". She let me live in her small, grungy flat. I had a small closet in the hallway. By hiding me away, I wouldn't have to interact with her 'clients'. I guess she thought it wasn't proper for a child to witness the consumation of the human race; but the walls were thin, and for years after the grunting and bed thumping would replay in my memory, haunting me. Once, I left my 'room', thinking it was safe, only to find her still 'working'. I was horrified. I remember how dirty I thought the whole thing was. And really, it was. I vowed that I would never participate in such a disgusting act.

One night, as I lay awake listening to the usual noises, I heard something new: a scream. It wasn't the usual scream. It was a painful scream. It frightened me, so much that I couldn't move from where I lay. Then another scream came, cut off by the sickening sound of choked gurgling. Then I heard laughter. Sick, twisted laughter; laughter that would remain in my memory for years, taunting me.

Once I found the courage to move, I tentively creaked open the door. I could hear soft, muttered whispers. They were not in the voice of my caretaker, so I moved out to investigate. I had always been warned not to leave the room when I heard the voice of someone else, but I was worried.

What I saw only further scarred my psyche: blood, lots of blood. It was soaking the sheets of my caretakers sheets to the point that their soft lavendar color was practically nonexistant. There was a knife lying next to the dirty mattress that served as a bed.

What damaged me the most was what was on the bed. Her latest lover now held her knife torn body to him, stroking her blood soaked hair, whispering into her ear. Her lifeless eyes were staring in my direction, her mouth in an open-mouthed stare that burned itself into my memory.

At the sound of my shocked gasp, he turned to me. He was not an attractive man. I distinctely remember his balding hair, and protruding stomach. But he had to have a large wallet, or else he wouldn't have been let in.

His eyes had narrowed dangerously. His bloodless lips moved, emitting no sound, as he reached for the knife, refusing to let go of the body he held clutched to him.

I was angry. I remember that more than anything. I suddenly had a burning sense of rage welling up inside me. My breathing became labored. I could almost sense an aura of black floating around me like a cloak.

Then something in me snapped. I couldn't explain it. My eye twitched, and suddenly he was plunging the knife into his heart. Somehow, his dying scream made me smile.

That night I merely left the apartment I called home. I took nothing with me. I didn't touch the bodies. I just left, with no clear destination.

I ended up wandering around several small cities, eating from garbage cans and stealing when I could. I was beaten whenever I was caught, which was quite often. I began to become numb to the pain however.

When I was age 12 I realized that I had never asked the woman who had taken care of me exactly where, or how she had found me. I suppose I was never destined to find out.

I ended up taking roots for a few years in a tiny city west of New Oregon. I was happy there. I even made friends with a couple of merchants who would make sure to leave some leftover food on the doorstep when they closed shop. I was the closest to happy that a messed up child could be.

The summer of my 17th year found me sitting aside a fountain, feasting on a piece of leftover chicken and watching the sunset. At the time my hair was long, and shaggy, and my attire consisted of an extremely worn shirt, and ripped pants. Neither had been washed for god knew how long, so I can only assume that my stench reached the furthest ends of the small town.

It was in that dust ridden city, on that cold, windy night, that I met Karine.

Karine was the daughter of a local rich man. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and rich. This made her the target of every male speciman in the entire town.

I remember the way she looked when she walked up to me. She was smiling. Her smile was beautiful. It was the one thing in the world that seemed to make the dark clouds go away. And she was young. Only 16 years old, and she had already been proposed to 6 times.

"Hello there" she had said, "I'm Karine. What's your name?"

I had stared at her. Surprisingly enough, no one had ever asked me that. The woman who had once taken care of me had called me "Samson", a name I had never cared for.

Rather than a quick, biting remark, however, I found myself telling her "I don't have a name".

She had looked at me quizzically, almost seeking to see if I was lying. She must have decided I wasn't, though, because she sat down next to me, turning to study my dirt-smudged face. Her smile was still there, lighting up her emerald green eyes. I couldn't help but notice the way her long dark hair had flowed over her shoulder. I almost wanted to reach out and touch it.

She must have been curious as to why I was nameless, but she didn't ask. Instead, she thought for a minute, and finally declared:

"Your name should be Legato!"

My name wrinkled at the strange name "What?"

"It's a musical term. It's where the notes move in a very smooth, even style. It reminds me of your voice. So, I'm going to call you Legato!"

I stared at her. "You're a very strange girl" I said bluntly.

She merely continued to smile "You're rather new to town, aren't you? I remember someone talking about you coming around about a year ago. I've lived here my whole life."

She just kept on like that. Chattering away like there wasn't a care in the world. At first it annoyed me, and I had plotted ways to make her leave me alone. Then, something changed. I found something magical in the sound of her voice, the light in her eyes. I noticed that the world didn't seem as dark, or lonely, with her around.

"Hey! I'm really hungry. I bet you are too. Look at how skinny you are! Would you like to come to my house for dinner?"

She didn't really let me answer. She simply grabbed my arm and hoisted me to my feet. For some reason, I just went with her. I let her hook her arm through mine and lead me through the streets to her rather large house.

Her family graciously let me in, sharing with me the food they had. Karine chattered on endlessly throughout the entire meal, but I merely sat there watching her. She was...mesmerizing. I couldn't take my eyes off of her for a second.

That night she had refused to let me leave. Instead, her family lent me one of their guest rooms. It was the first time I had ever really slept in a real bed. It was very soft, almost uncomfortable. But for the first time in my life I felt safe, and I slept soundly.

The next day I awoke to her lovely face as it poked its head into my doorway to announce that we were going shopping. I openly refused to accept her charity, insisting that she had already done far too much, but she wouldn't let me go. So, I consented.

She bought me clothes. I blushed at the whispers we got as we strolled down the walkways, her arm in mine once again.

_"Isn't that the Bluesummers' daughter? Who's that vagrant she's with?"_

_ "Don't tell me she's fond of _him!_ He's nothing but a street rat!"_

She noticed my down trodden look, of course, and merely smiled and patted my arm.

"Let them say what they want," she told me softly, "They're not happy unless they have someone to talk about."

That night, at her house, her parents exclaimed at how well I 'cleaned up'. They insisted I become a semi-permanent guest at their house, until I could find a place of my own. I knew that this decision came because of Karine's insistence, but I didn't dare refuse.

The days spent at her house were a blur. We spent many days in her family's private library after Karine learned of my hunger for knowledge. I had learned to read from the newspapers I used to pick up here or there, but I was never able to get my hands on any real books. Karine liked to watch me as I sat enthralled in another novel. Anytime I looked up at her she would be smiling. I soon realized that her gaze made me blush, though I was never sure why.

One night, about a month after I had started to stay at her house, she kissed me. I was stunned. Too stunned to move. For once, she wasn't smiling. In fact, she looked scared.

"Legato...I love you"

Now I was even more stunned. Love? She loved _me_? The vagrant? The dirty street rat? I didn't even have a name, aside from the one she gave me.

And yet...something changed in me when she said that. I didn't feel as dirty inside. It was almost as if....as if...

"I love you too, Karine."

She looked visibly relieved. She launched herself into my arms. My arms instinctively returned the favor. It was then I realized that I loved her too. That I _loved_ her. It was a huge surprise to me, when I had thought myself dead of all emotion. And yet it was true. My whole heart belonged to Karine, from the day she came up to me and said hello. I didn't think it was possible. But I was happy. For the first time in my life, I was really happy.

A week later came an even bigger surprise:

"Legato...I want to marry you"

She told me this as we lay entwined on a bench in their small, outdoor garden. At first I wasn't sure I heard her right, but when the silence began to stifle us both, I realized that not only had I heard her right, but that she was serious.

All I could manage to tell her was "Alright"

It was a very small ceremony. Surprisingly, her family didn't object. In fact, they seemed happy for us, and I was welcomed into the family. Since I had no last name of my own, I took on theirs instead. From that day on, I was 'Legato Bluesummers'. I couldn't describe how happy I was. I was in love with the most amazing girl, and I now had a family. I felt complete.

One night, however, we finally got into our first fight. It was a nasty one. I said things I shouldn't have said, as did she. We screamed, so loud that her parents awoke to hear her storming out of the house.

I gave myself time to calm down before I went after her. I wished a thousand times afterwards that I hadn't. When I ran out of the house to find her, I couldn't. She was nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere I could think of: her favorite clothing store, the bar, even her favorite spot out in the desert. I was worried sick, but I decided that I wasn't going to find her on my own. I was on my way back to the home we shared with her parents when I heard it: the scream. The same scream I had heard 12 years ago...

I ran, but not quick enough. I arrived two minutes too late.

"This is what you get for marrying that street rat rather than a worthwhile man like me. You deserve to die like this"

Those words, carried by a gruff, male voice, filtered to me from an ally way. When I arrived, a figure ran off, leaving my dearest Karine lying in a pool of her own life's blood.

I ran to her, falling to my knees and gathering her limp body to me. She was dead. Already starting to get cold. Her whole body was littered with knife holes. Much in the same fashion as my caretaker.

I wailed. I could do nothing else as I rocked back and forth, clutching her broken body. My howls of pain reached the sleeping town. However, the first one to find me was my beloved's parents.

They were in as much shock as I was. Ashamed, I readied to tell them what had happened, when...

"I knew we shouldn't have let our daughter near a dirt ridden demon like you!!' her father accused, screaming for the local police.

I was confused. What did he mean? Then I realized...

"It wasn't me!" I cried.

Not that it mattered. I was just the nameless street retch, who had lost his temper and killed his wife. I wasn't even given a trial. They merely threw me in prison. It was two months that I rotted there before I was told about Karine's pregnancy.

It didn't hurt, though, when they told me. I was numb. My last scrap of humanity died with Karine, buried away six feet under the sand, never to be touched or held again. Hate welled up inside me, replacing my numbness. The way I felt before Karine was doubled 10 fold. 

One night I killed the guards and broke out. It was easy. All I had to do was make them use their own pistols on themselves, and suddenly I was free. I laughed.

That night I met Knives Million, who offered me a deal if I would join with him. His plan excited me. It was just the oppurtunity I was looking for. I could give back all the pain that life had given me. They would pay. They would _all_ pay...

  


-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

  


Legato's head softly hit against the window. He cursed the salty, stinging tears that stung his golden eyes. His hand reached out to press against the coldness of the glass, applying so much pressure that it cracked, splitting his skin as easily as a thin sheet of people.

"Karine..." His voice whispered to the night, "What have I become?"


	12. Perhaps Tomorrow

Author Time:  
Sorry about the delay on this chapter. I've been at camp for a while, and then recovering from it when I got back. Hopefully there won't be too much delay until the next update.  
  
Oh yes! And much love to everyone that's sent me such awesome reviews. I would thank each and every one of you individually but it would take too long, so I'll just give one big THANK YOU! You guys are so awesome. You've given me confidence in my own writing.  
  
Now onto the story!  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Darkness; bleak, comfortable darkness. A car. A rumbling old car that had just taken a heavy beating by a dark-haired maniac. Now it lay idle, waiting in the sands, resting while it had the opportunity.  
  
Its passengers were idle too. Waiting. Breathing. Sitting across from each other, somehow afraid to reach out and seek the comfort they both needed.  
  
Vash hadn't even batted an eyelash at Meryl's reckless driving. She was grateful. They had ended up pretty close to their destination in a ridiculously short amount of time. However, the suns had not been on their side. They had dipped below the horizon early, leaving them in darkness so thick that it wouldn't be smart to even perform a sneak attack in. Not even the stars pierced the black, all of them seeming to have gone to bed early.  
  
They had decided to stop for the night. However, along with the darkness, a thick blanket of silence had fallen with it. It was a silence that neither of them understood. The whole night seemed to ebb with a dark, unreadable feeling.  
  
Something bad is going to happen.  
  
Vash breathed in and out, trying to mute it as best he could. Even the sound of his own breathing seemed loud in the shelter of the steel cage commonly referred to as a 'car'. He ached so badly to reach out and hold Meryl, to tell her everything would be all right. Maybe his unease came from knowing he had to leave her here and go to fight alone. Maybe it was the fight itself. He was afraid of death, now. Afraid of leaving Meryl behind now that he knew the extent of her devotion for him. It frightened, and touched him at the same time. He knew that if he lived through this that she would become a target as well as he. He knew that bounty hunters, assassins, and anyone else who had developed a dislike for him would get to him through her. But he had vowed never to leave her. And he intended to keep his promise. No matter what it took.  
  
Meryl could imagine her fingers wearing an imprint into the steering wheel. She knew that if she let go her hands would move to touch him.  
  
And what's wrong with that?  
  
It was wrong because.well, something's not right here. Something was different. Maybe it was the air around them. It smelled different. It stunk of danger.  
  
Meryl was afraid. Yes, the fearless Derringer Meryl.or, wait, Pistol- whip Meryl was afraid. She was terrified that the love of her life would go into that mansion, and he would never come back out. The death song played in the air, as real as any radio wave. Meryl flexed her fingers, as if the motion would keep the tears from coming. Amazingly enough, Meryl never feared for her own safety, though she innocently believed that she was still going with him.  
  
Vash's gaze was torn from the eternal black in front of him when the car's other passenger made a soft noise. It sounded suspiciously like a sob, a sound he had never before heard from Meryl. Having now heard it, however, he wished he could erase it from his memory, because it tore at his heart.  
  
"Meryl?" Vash asked blindly, staring in her general direction, "What's wrong?"  
  
At first there was no answer, only more noises identical to their predecessor. Vash slid carefully across the seat until his hip met with that of his insurance girl. His arms went around her. She was rigid.  
  
"I haven't."  
  
It was barely a whisper. Vash leaned in closer.  
  
"What, Meryl?"  
  
"I haven't cried in so long," she said, almost apologetically, her voice muffled as she hid her face in the folds of dust-scented coat that covered his battered chest.  
  
He held her tighter, waiting for her to continue.  
  
"I don't want to lose you, Vash. I have too many times before," her own crying caused her voice to crack, "what if something happens when we go in there?"  
  
Her concern touched him. He was silent, though he could almost feel the air waver as she waited for a response with him. He, however, was waiting for a response within himself. He had promised that she could go with him, but yet.  
  
The answer came. He couldn't take her with him. It would be risking too much. It would be risking everything, really. This delicate flower that he held in his arms was rapidly becoming everything to him.  
  
It was foolish of him to fall in love. What kind of future would he be able to offer her? Following around an outlaw, becoming a target? Just being around him was dangerous. Besides: he was immortal, and she wasn't. Would he be able to take it, watching her die? Holding her hand as she breathed her last breath? And what about children? Would he ever be able to have children with her? If he couldn't, how would she react? Meryl deserved a family, not what he had to offer...  
  
A sharp elbow suddenly came into contact with his tender side. He breathed in sharply.  
  
"Don't brood," Meryl whispered, stirring against his chest.  
  
He smiled in the darkness. How did she know?  
  
The important thing was that she did. She understood him. She was definitely one of the first. She never questioned his reasoning (well, not lately anyway), and she was always behind him. Vash knew that Meryl's love for him was pure. If he disappeared on her, even if it were for her own good, would she move on? Would he even be able to walk away in the first place?  
  
"Meryl, love," he began, hesitating, "you're going to be angry with me"  
  
He felt her sit up a bit.  
  
"I want you to promise me that you'll stay here."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Please, don't argue with me Meryl. I need you to stay here while I go and fight," he blindly groped for her hands, which were now clenched, and squeezed them "I'm going to have to use all my concentration in there, and if you were there I would be worrying over your condition. Please, love, promise me you'll stay here. I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt"  
  
There was silence. He braced himself for a punch that never came.  
  
"Alright"  
  
Now it was Vash's turn to be confused.  
  
"What? That's it? No argument?"  
  
He heard Meryl sigh.  
  
"I was..anticipating this. I thought about it while we were driving. I think that with an ace gunman like you, I could only be a hindrance"  
  
Vash caught the hint in her words and once again held her close.  
  
"No, love. Never a hindrance."  
  
She smiled into the fabric of his coat.  
  
"I'll stay here, I promise"  
  
Vash smiled, relaxing. He leaned back against the seat, bringing Meryl with him. They lay together like that, each lost in thought, but happy to be in the others company. It wasn't until Vash was almost asleep that Meryl's voice filtered to him through the mist of his own drowsiness.  
  
"Promise me you'll come back."  
  
He snuggled her closer.  
  
"I promise"  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Millie began to wake from a dream. The sunlight streaming in through the sole window of her room battered against her eyelids, bullying her into consciousness.  
  
She could still feel the path of her own tears, now dried on her cheeks like a deserted riverbed. She let out a sigh, as if trying to dispel all of the stress with a single breath. It didn't work.  
  
It was so hard to be optimistic when everything kept trying to break you down. Millie didn't even feel like herself these days. She felt like she was in a dark, dirty abyss with no visible method of escape.  
  
Apparently it hadn't been enough that she lost Wolfwood. She also had to endure this transformed version of what he used to be.  
  
Millie began to cry as the last tendrils of unconsciousness fell away. It stopped abruptly as she realized that her bed had suddenly gotten a lot smaller.  
  
No. It hadn't gotten small. It had just.gained another occupant.  
  
Millie was tempted to scream until she recognized the all too familiar frame of her former lover.  
  
Now that she thought about it, Wolfwood had been acting awfully strange the night before. Then he had passed out, and she had to drag him to her bed. For an extra precaution of his safety (or at least she told herself that was the reason) she had crawled in next to him. He hadn't moved since.  
  
Millie watched as his chest rose and fell in a steady pattern. He was alive, that was for sure. As alive as he could be, considering he was a shell of the man he used to be. She wanted to hate this creature that she once had loved, but she didn't have it in her.  
  
She really missed Wolfwood sometimes. She always saw some insignificant thing that stirred up a dusty memory. She missed his smile, his carefree attitude, the way he could be so gentle and loving when no one was around. She just missed him, that was all there was to it.  
  
Tears welled up in her eyes again, despite her best efforts to banish him. She had often wondered if Wolfwood ever missed her too. She supposed that he couldn't now. He didn't even know who she was anymore.  
  
Millie began to move, but stopped. Her eyes drifted over his sleeping form, resting on his face. His expression was almost like that of his former self. Perhaps she could content herself to watch him while he slept. Lying back down, she flipped to her side and studied him.  
  
They had planned to get married. His whispered proposal in the darkness on the night they had shared before his death had been met with a bone-crushing hug and shrieked, "Yes!"  
  
It was going to be a spring wedding, by Millie's request. That way she could invite her whole family to come. She had been excited to introduce her family to him. They would love him, she was sure of that. He could become a part of her family and never have to be lonely again.  
  
Perhaps watching him sleep wasn't such a good idea after all. It brought back too much pain. She started to rise up to leave when a large, calloused hand wrapped around her wrist, pinning her in place. She raised wide eyes to meet with dark orbs that were very, very awake. She gasped at what she saw in those eyes. It was so familiar.  
  
"Millie honey..I'm so sorry. Can you forgive me?" 


	13. At the End of the Hall

Sorry about the delay on this chapter. I've been packing up and working my final hours at my job before I ship off to college early next week (eeee, I'm scared!)  
I took some creative license on this chapter. You remember the episode where Meryl says "I'm having unhappy visions again!"? Well, I've decided to take it literally and say that she really DOES have visions. There was something else, too, but I've forgotten what it is by now. It IS 2 in the morning after all. Any who, please forgive me my insolence, and as always: let me know what you think!  
Also, one more note: my friend just joined the fanfiction world. Her name is 'Moki', and she specializes in Harry Potter fiction. She hasn't had anyone read her story yet, though, and she'd like some constructive criticism. So, if you're tired of reading my story, go checking out 'Ticking Clocks'. It's in my favorite stories list, if you're interested. (Forgive me for mentioning this like this.)  
Enough shameless plugs. On with the story!  
  
Meryl shuddered heavily in the darkness and hugged herself tighter. The night air was frighteningly cold, standing out in stark contrast to the blazing heat of the day.  
  
Meryl idly wondered if her sudden drop in temperature had anything to do with the fact that she was alone. She had been warm when she had fallen asleep, but when she had been awoken by God knows what a short time later; she was suddenly missing a good 200 pounds of warmth.  
  
She didn't want to admit it, but she was worried. For the first five or ten minutes she pretended that she thought he was omnipotent, when it was just the opposite; he could very easily die.  
  
Still, she had promised to stay here. She would only be a hindrance to his legendary gun fighting skills anyway.  
  
Sighing, Meryl gently rested her forehead against the cool leather binding on the steering wheel. Her gut was twisted in tight knots of worry for the man now striding (she imagined) confidently towards his destination. She took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. It was a fruitless effort, but it gave her something to do. She finally gave up when she began to feel a little bit light headed.  
  
It only got worse when she stopped, however. Meryl gasped, realizing that, like clockwork, she was getting yet another glimpse of the future. The world before her blurred, and she methodically closed her eyes against the onslaught of images her mind began to play like a movie.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Millie had lost the ability to breathe, it seemed. All oxygen movement had ceased when the swirling clouds in Wolfwood's eyes had all but dissipated, leaving the soft warmth that she had seen so many times in her dreams.  
  
Wolfwood seemed to have stopped breathing as well. Air hung thick between them. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, and only after coming to the realization did she realize that he had said something.  
  
"S-sorry? Why, whatever for?" she laughed, that nervous chuckle that always seemed to escape when she was at a loss for action.  
  
"Everything. I've put you through so much." his hands, warm and loving, were suddenly grasping her eyes. Millie's eyes felt about to pop right out. "I don't know if I can ever make it up to you."  
  
Millie took in a deep breath, and then let it out. She repeated, over and over. Her mind, ticking away like a geared clock, now whirred with nonsensical sentences. What was happening? The stranger before her had suddenly turned into...  
  
"Wolfwood?" She whispered, her voice hoarse. She feared that if she said it too loud that he would disappear.  
  
"I'm sorry, honey. I never meant to leave you alone"  
  
Millie's breath, that she hadn't realized she been holding while he spoke, suddenly let out in a whoosh. Her heart beat rapidly, like a racehorse pushed too far. She didn't know why this was all happening; all she knew was that it WAS happening. That was good enough for Millie's brain.  
  
"Wolfwood!" She cried, launching herself into his arms and barreling both of them to the floor. She sobbed into the material of his shirt, her arms around him in a vice grip that threatened to cut off his air supply.  
  
Rather than attempt to free himself, however, he clutched her closer with one arm. The hand attached to his free arm found its way into her dirt- ridden locks of hair. He brushed the hair from her forehead before planting a kiss there.  
  
"I've just.I've missed you SO much!" She sobbed harder.  
  
"Shhh, honey, I'm here now".  
  
He let her sob into him, his hand stroking her back in a comforting gesture. All the while his own mind was in a jumble. He felt like he had just awakened from a bad dream. But waking up had been painful; very, very painful. It had felt like there was something, someone, that hadn't wanted him to wake up.  
  
At the same time, these past few days (well, he thought they were the last few days. They also felt like part of the dream) had been so strange. He had listened to Millie crying...and he hadn't been able to do anything about it. It was like had been a prisoner of his own body. He also remembered a voice. A laughing, mocking voice, that had rang inside his head; and a sinister, evil shadow that had been following him around ever since he had arrived here.  
  
"I don't know what's going on," Wolfwood said quietly, "but I'll bet Legato will be able to tell me."  
  
Millie's head shot up, giving him a painful view of her tear-stained face.  
  
"You're not going to fight him, are you?"  
  
Wolfwood's gaze softened at the look of obvious worry on her usually cheerful face. He also noted the dark smudges under her eyes. He could only assume that he was the artist that had given them to her.  
  
A thought occurred to him. He was about to open his mouth, to ask where Vash and Meryl were, but a sudden onslaught of memories caused him to snap it back shut.  
  
He had shot Meryl. Just...gone right out and shot her.  
  
"Have you seen Vash or Meryl lately, honey?"  
  
Millie's brows drew together in thought.  
  
"Well, yes. Mr. Vash took Meryl away to get her help after you..."  
  
"...after I shot her."  
  
Millie read the shame and guilt in his tone instantly.  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Priest. I'm sure neither Meryl nor Mr. Vash blame you for what happened. You were a different person then."  
  
Wolfwood smiled at her.  
  
"You always know what to say, don't you?"  
  
A muffled bang from somewhere in the houses made the hair on the back of Wolfwood's neck stand up.  
  
"I have to go." He stated simply.  
  
"Go? Where? You're not going out there are you?"  
  
He sighed, gently putting her from him and standing. A simple search of his person found the weapon he was looking for. Cocking the hammer of the old colt pistol, he turned to her.  
  
"I have to."  
  
Resolutely, Millie moved forward until she was standing directly in front of him.  
  
"I'm going with you."  
  
"Millie, honey, it's dangerous, I don't want you to..."  
  
"I'll be perfectly fine! I have my stun gun with me."  
  
Wolfwood stared.  
  
"Legato let you keep your gun with you?"  
  
Millie smiled.  
  
"Yup!"  
  
Shaking his head, Wolfwood ignored the little voice in the back of his mind and went against his own reasoning.  
  
"Alright, you can come, but you need to stay behind me the whole time. Got that?"  
  
Wolfwood creaked the door open, fear whooshing in with the sudden blast of night air. Who knows what they would meet on the other side of the hallway.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Meryl wasn't quite used to the preliminaries to having visions. There was always the feeling of swimming through a partially solidified substance, the lack of oxygen, and the unnerving feeling of weightlessness. It passed quickly, but left her feeling slimy.  
  
She was in the house now. That dreaded house that had formerly held her prisoner, and currently held her best friend prisoner. The same house that now dangerously sheltered Vash.  
  
She saw that same scantily furnished living room. She also saw the visage of the evil creature that dared call himself a man. What confused her was the identity of the man sitting casually in an armchair, his blonde hair a shade or two lighter than Vash's. It dawned on her. This must be Vash's brother.  
  
"Hello there, dear brother," his voice, dripping with something a shade darker than evil, spoke as if from far away, "It's nice of you to finally join us"  
  
She distantly heard Vash snarl.  
  
"I don't understand, Knives. The deal was supposed to be that I would exchange you for Millie."  
  
Knives' lips twisted upwards in a sinister smirk.  
  
"There's been a change of plans. I decided I was tired of this little game. Instead, I've decided to use you as bait."  
  
"I guess your little plan worked then"  
  
As she watched, Legato's tongue lolled out from his mouth to smooth over the skin of his own hand.  
  
"Yes, the plan was quite successful," Knives' hand clenched, "Now we just need the closing act"  
  
Knives' snapped his fingers. The noise was unusually loud. The action brought with it the appearance of a dozen guns, held by numerous members of the infamous Gung Ho Guns, that had been 'waiting in the wings', so to speak.  
  
Meryl tried to scream, but she couldn't. She could only watch in horror as a brief light shone from each of the guns as they fired. Her eyes couldn't shut against the onslaught of bullet holes being ripped through Vash, while his strangled cry tore through his throat.  
  
His bleeding body fell to the carpet with a thud. There he lied, breathing shallowly, a slow trickle of blood sliding from the corner of his mouth, until a shadow passed over him. Knives. Holding an identical twin to Vash's own handgun, which still remained harmlessly in his holster. He had never been given a chance to use it.  
  
"I gave you the chance to be with me; to create our own Eden. But instead, you take all the gifts I offer you and throw them into my face! I'm tired of your insolence, dear brother. If the only way I can save the butterfly is by killing it, then so be it."  
  
The bullet seemed to pass through the air in slow motion, careening toward Vash's exposed forehead like a reaper's sickle. It hit its mark. She could tell that Vash was dead on impact.  
  
Torn from the lingering fingers of her dream state, Meryl found her lungs. She began to scream. She didn't stop. Not until she realized that she had been returned to the car... That, perhaps, her vision hadn't come true yet.  
  
Meryl's breathing was sharp and ragged. Tears stung her eyes, but she pushed them back. She had to help him.  
  
"I'm coming, Vash, just hold on"  
  
Without a second thought, she threw open the door and stole into the desert night.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
Vash turned the knob and swung it wide. With confidence, he strode forward, somehow knowing where he was supposed to go.  
  
Inwardly he felt no confidence. Instead, he felt a blind fear for his own partial mortality.  
  
Still, he strode on, till he found himself in the same room as the monster he had dared called a brother. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
Millie and Wolfwood ceased their creeping forward when they heard voices drifting to them from the living room. One they recognized as Vash's. The other... well, only Wolfwood recognized the seething evil seeping from THAT voice. He had heard it in his mind many times before.  
  
"We have to hurry," Wolfwood hissed through clenched teeth. The air was beginning to smell of death. They didn't have much time.  
  
With a sudden quickness, they made their way towards the living room. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
"Now we just need the closing act"  
  
Vash braced himself. His hand was beginning to move towards his pistol, when a high-pitched female scream resounded from behind him  
  
"NO!" Meryl cried, barreling forward from the open doorway that Vash stood mere feet in front of.  
  
Wolfwood and Millie rushed in from the other doorway, coming to a skidding halt at the scene in front of them.  
  
Guns were pulled. Hammers clicked.  
  
Shots were fired.  
  
Everyone stood still, their breathing deep and elaborated. None dared to look around the room, to their colleagues, friends, or lovers.  
  
Two bodies hit the floor.  
  
Silence reigned.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
This is cruel of me. I apologize. Stay tuned for the final chapter!  
  
Next chapter: In the End You Find the Answers 


	14. Conceptual Happiness

The final chapter. I'm so proud! This is the first piece I've actually finished. Let me know what you guys think. I'm already pondering a sequel, but my writing it will depend on the opinions I get from my ending. So, let me know what you think! And thank you, THANK YOU, to everyone that's supported me throughout this whole thing. Your angry IM's at my not updating fast enough spurred me on till the end. I love you guys 3  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Throughout the ages life has been compared to many, many things. Life is like a box of chocolate; life is like driving down the freeway in reverse, etc. I think it's just the opposite: a box of chocolates is like life. At birth we are handed the one thing that we need to complete our journey here, and that is life.  
  
I had never expected it to end like this. I was such an ambitious young thing, full of hopes and dreams. I would complete my career goals, and I would get married and have a family. Life is funny like that, however, in that it usually hands us the opposite of what we want. In turn, being the strange creatures that we are, we adapt and after a period of getting used to it all, we claim that what we have now is what we have wanted all along.  
  
I can't say that I'm sorry. It's just that this isn't the ending I had quite expected. I had expected a quiet death; perhaps slipping away in my dreams while being held by the one I loved. I certainly never expected to die in a blaze of glory; but it was worth it. It was all worth it.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
The silence reeked of death's decay. Everyone seemed frozen in place, like a taxidermist's office. Time's meaning had shattered into a thousand shards of glass, each as piercing and painful as the last.  
  
There are times in life when the mind refuses to grasp hold of reality. Instead, it clings desperately to what used to be. If the new situation is just all too painful to take hold of, the mind may be able to detach itself completely from the real world.  
  
Words cannot describe the kind of pain that tears ones soul from ones body. It's immeasurable.  
  
Blood, pushed forward by momentum, drew itself in an arc in the air as the lifeless body sailed backwards. With lightning reflexes strong, trembling arms latched themselves to the limp, lifeless form, falling with it to the floor.  
  
It didn't seem real. It was one of those dreams that you couldn't wake up from. Instead, you just kept running, on and on, towards a goal that never seems to get closer.  
  
Sounds seemed to echo like they were resounding through an empty church. Bodies making a sickening thump as they fell to the soft carpet, a harsh intake of breath by another member of the room, and piercing, scathing, maniacal laughter. It was all echoing, spiraling, down, down.  
  
"Meryl?"  
  
Vash recognized his voice, though he didn't recall having been able to open his mouth. Everything was suspended, suspended in his soul and stabbing.  
  
Breathing. Ragged breathing. He tried his hardest to place it as the sound echoed over and over again in his brain. It was only straining his ears that he realized that the breathing was his own. It wasn't hers. It couldn't be hers, because she wasn't breathing at all. Vash didn't need to feel for her pulse to know that she was dead. Her life's blood, falling from a torn hole in her throat, fell across his fingers, forever marring them. She was DEAD.  
  
Suddenly the stabbing found a tender niche. With a heart-wrenching rip, the cloth tore free, unleashing the wave behind.  
  
His ears were suddenly filled with the sound of his own mindless wailing.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Millie's hand came to her mouth to stifle the oncoming gasp. Tears were already welling up in her eyes as she witnessed the death of her best friend, an image that would burn into her subconscious and leave a scar that would never fade.  
  
A wave of guilt was washing over her, and she felt it full force, making her sink to her knees. They had been too late. They had been 2 seconds too late. And now, because of it, Meryl was dead.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
The gung ho guns stopped in unison. Their fingers hovered harmlessly at their triggers. None of them moved. None of them breathed, it seemed. Their leader had fallen.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Knives was torn. His objective had been accomplished, albeit in a different manner than he had anticipated. He had destroyed Vash. However, his favorite henchman had also lost his life in the crossfire. He wasn't sure who had delivered the death shot to Legato, but they were going to be punished.  
  
Knives watched in grim satisfaction as Vash held the limp body of his beloved spider in his arms, rocking back and forth, heedless of the blood covering him. His wails of despair, of unrelenting pain, only made Knives feel that much better.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Wolfwood's breathing came in even hisses. His aim had been true. The deathblow had been dealt, but he had made a fatal error. As the smoke from cross punisher filtered into the air in lazy curls, he watched Legato's body crumple. The bastard deserved it. The problem came in that Legato was not the one that had been going for Vash's deathblow. Legato had his weapon raised, but he had waited, allowing Knives the satisfaction of life's blood. Wolfwood had misinterpreted, thinking Legato would be the first to shoot, and therefore pinning him as the most imminent danger. After all, it seemed to be Knives' favorite method to sit back and let his henchmen do the dirty work for him. Now Wolfwood damned himself for the mistake. Vash had been saved anyway, but another life precious to him had been lost.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Vash felt as if someone had reached in and ripped out his heart. He felt like the blood staining his coat a darker red was his own.  
  
"Meryl," he pleaded in vain, "Please come back. Please, please come back. Don't leave me here. Don't leave me alone like this. I won't leave you again, I promise. Just don't leave me."  
  
He rocked back and forth, her body clutched close. One hand cupped her cheek, keeping her close to ensure her safety against outside forces. His own body curled around hers as he sobbed into her hair.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
This was perfect, Knives thought gleefully. With the spider that had been poisoning Vash's mind eliminated, he would have his brother back. He didn't even have to kill him. Sure, he had lost Legato, but Vash was all that mattered. Knives started forward.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Vash didn't look up, although he was somewhat aware of the heavy footfalls heading his direction. He continued to breathe deeply, lost in his own world of loss, of never-ending pain. It wasn't until a heavy shadow fell over him that his eyes moved upwards to the figure of his brother looming over him, Knives face curved into an easy smile.  
  
"Come, brother, let's go away from here. Away from these spiders." Knives' hand was extended.  
  
Vash merely stared at the outstretched palm, as if it were some unknown object from a distant planet.  
  
"Why?" Vash asked in a hoarse whisper, his voice already cracking, "Why, Knives?"  
  
"Why, to teach you a lesson, brother. About how foolish it is to waste your time on this human..." his hand waved to encompass the corpse before him, "garbage"  
  
Vash met Knives in the eye.  
  
"They are NOT garbage. I loved her, Knives."  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
The force of pain shimmering from tear-brimmed green eyes took knives back. Vash's eyes had always had a certain empty quality, but now? Now they reflected a torn soul; one that had half its mass taken away.  
  
Knives felt a pang suddenly. A pang like a spearhead poking at what he could only guess to be his heart. And what was that other strange emotion creeping up on him? Could it be regret? Only a little bit?  
  
More shadows fell over the brothers. Millie, sobbing like a schoolgirl, fell to her knees beside Vash to wrap her arms around the heartbroken gunman.  
  
Wolfwood, his eyes burning in a hell-fire rage, had his weapon trained on Knives, his trigger finger shaking, barely in control of itself.  
  
"You bastard. Is this good enough for you? Is this pain a good enough a display to you? Do you feel BETTER now, Knives?" the cross punisher was aimed at Knives forehead.  
  
Knives wasn't paying attention. His thoughts had turned inward, to a place visible only to himself. The new feelings burbling up inside him had perplexed him beyond measure. He almost felt...what was it.... sorry for Vash? Could that be it?  
  
Through steely eyes Knives observed the man in front of him. There had been a dramatic change in Vash. Vash was in pain, now. He was in real pain. And he was the author of it. But wasn't that what he wanted? To teach Vash a lesson? To show him the pain there was in living?  
  
It felt different now. Vash had truly cared for this...human. And Knives had killed her. She had just been getting in the way, but she had made Vash happy.  
  
What was happiness anyway? Nothing but a mortal conception. Something for the spiders to hope for. Something to give their pointless existences some meaning. It was all imaginary, yet they clung to it like they clung to their plants, leeching until there was nothing left.  
  
Somehow, the rage that Knives usually felt was ebbing away from him. The spider had jumped in front of Vash to save him. She had not made the choice to do so out of some urge to gain more. She had not given her life to gain something else. She had taken the bullet because she cared about Vash.  
  
Perhaps he and Meryl were not so different after all. They both cared for Vash. They both wanted what was best for him, although they had two entirely different definitions of what exactly 'the best' was.  
  
"I should have taken you out a long time ago," Wolfwood was saying, that same fury burning flames in his eyes, "But I guess that now will have to do."  
  
The newly discovered emotions were gathering strength inside of Knives. A truth he couldn't quite grasp was slowly taking hold of him.  
  
"Well? Are you going to fight or not?" Wolfwood asked, impatience growing at his silent audience. Knives' eyes were transfixed on some unknown point in the room. He seemed...lost.  
  
"Fine," Wolfwood snarled. His gun raised, its barrel pressing to the soft temple of the left side of Knives' head.  
  
Knives breathing grew heavier as he fought to detangle the web inside of him. A voice was telling him something. He didn't know what it was. He distantly heard the click of a gun hammer, but he ignored it.  
  
It was only when imminent death was a breath away did the truth finally burble up inside him: Meryl didn't deserve to die. She loved Vash, and Vash loved her. And now Knives had taken her away from him. But.  
  
Just as the bullet clicked into place and prepared to fire, Knives fist shot out. It connected with hard steel, bruising the bones of his knuckles, but pushing the gun away a few life saving inches as the gun fired with a resounding boom.  
  
Snarling, Knives turned on Wolfwood. The surprised Wolfwood could only stumble back before he lost all balance in his body. He tumbled to the floor. Rather than pursue him, Knives turned to Millie and Vash, who still cradled the silenced Meryl. Millie's cries had ceased, whereas Vash's seemed only to have gained strength.  
  
"Vash," Knives barked. His words went unheeded.  
  
"VASH!"  
  
The blonde looked up, his breathing irregular as his cries had suddenly been cut off.  
  
"I can help you."  
  
Four words, and suddenly hope was once again lurking in those green depths. It must have been the tone of Knives voice. However, he was also skeptical.  
  
"Give her to me"  
  
Instinctively, Vash only clutched her closer, holding her protectively.  
  
"What are you going to do?"  
  
Knives sighed. Though he hated explanations, it needed to be done.  
  
"I have...powers, Vash. I can bring people back from the dead. To do it, I have to transmit a small part of my essence from myself, to them. This allows them to come back and live out the remainder of their mortal existence. However, they also in turn receive my mentality."  
  
Wolfwood, now sitting in a cautious cross-legged position, one hand resting on his weapon, said "And that's why I felt like I was fighting a demon in my own mind?"  
  
"Yes," Knives countered in a clipped tone, making it clear his annoyance at being interrupted.  
  
Continuing, Knives waved a nonsensical pattern in the air with one of his hands idly, "It only takes a few minutes."  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Vash asked, a genuine amount of puzzlement written on his tear-streaked face.  
  
"Because, Vash, I..." he searched for the easiest reason, "I want what's best for you"  
  
Leaving no room for discussion, Knives began to bark commands. Meryl was laid down on the table where Legato had enjoyed his various sweets. Vash took one of her hands, which was now beginning to grow cold.  
  
Next he placed his hands against her shoulders. And then he waited.  
  
A soft glow began to emanate from his hands, spreading from his outstretched palms to spread over Meryl like a soft blanket. The light corrupted, bleeding into a dark gray color that caused Millie, Vash, and Wolfwood to grow a bit wary.  
  
A thin layer of sweat was forming on Knives' forehead. This process was always painful. He had to keep absolute concentration or he would break the connection and lose it.  
  
His mind became one with Meryl's. He could feel the now still organs and searched for the one that needed a jump-start. It didn't take long to find. Mentally he seized hold of Meryl's heart, and squeezed. He squeezed hard, until he felt a spark. Still, he didn't let go. Another spark. Sweat was trickling. More sparks.  
  
Everyone in the room waited in suspense. Meryl wasn't moving, although she was almost entirely enveloped in a blanket of dark gray.  
  
Finally, a breakthrough: the sparks came together. With a final shove of energy, Knives gave the final little push.  
  
Meryl's heart gave off a beat. There was a pause, and then another came. And another. They built the steady rhythm.  
  
Gray eyes flew open. Meryl gasped wide, groping for oxygen, her arms flailing helplessly. She gulped down air again and again, never seeming to give enough.  
  
Vash had stopped breathing. Meryl was alive! She was alive! His absolute joy masked the small amount of worry that wondered if this was the same Meryl, or just another of Knives' creatures.  
  
Knives didn't stop now that Meryl was alive. His essence continued to transport into Meryl. His hands were shaking. He could feel it all ebbing away, but he kept on. He had to do this. For Vash.  
  
"Why isn't he stopped?" Millie asked, her eyes widening a degree or two.  
  
"Hey, Knives! She's alive! You can stop now!" Wolfwood cried, his anxiety growing into alarm. What was he doing to Meryl?  
  
Knives ignored them both. It was almost finished. He need only keep his concentration for a few seconds longer.  
  
"STOP!" Vash cried, alarmed at the wide set eyes of Meryl. Meryl's mouth was agape, as if she were in some terrible pain. Vash reached out to grasp Knives and tear him from Meryl just as his brother's body slumped away and the glow encompassing Meryl slipped into oblivion .  
"What happened?" Millie asked, worried.  
  
Meryl's breathing was returning to normal. Her eyes weren't so wide. Cautiously, Vash leaned over, still clutching Meryl's now warm hand. Her eyes swirled with the same guarded kindness they had before. Tears were brimming.  
  
"Meryl?" He asked in a whisper.  
  
Her eyes rolled over to him, focusing on him slowly as if her vision was coming through a fog.  
  
"Vash?"  
  
With a cry of joy she was swept up into his arms, crushed to his chest as he once again sobbed into her hair.  
  
"Vash" came another voice. Vash turned to see his brother. Knives skin was now a gaunt, gray color. His lips were bloodless.  
  
"Knives?"  
  
"This...is my final gift to you, brother. Never will you have to watch her wither away and die as any other mortal. In giving her everything I have given her my immortality."  
  
"Knives..." Vash whispered, speechless.  
  
"Wait a minute," Wolfwood interrupted, "Why didn't Meryl wake up with a demon inside her head like I did?"  
  
Knives' cold eyes focused on the former priest.  
  
"For the evil to take control there has to be a desire for the evil's presence."  
  
Wolfwood fell silent.  
  
"Thank you, Knives..." Vash said dumbly, at a loss for words. His emotions were overloaded.  
A miraculous thing happened. A smile, free of evil and vindication, curled Knives' lips. His headed nodded, once, before falling limply to the table. Knives released once last breath before slipping quietly into oblivion.  
  
"Rest in peace," Wolfwood whispered quietly.  
  
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
At his own insistence, Vash carried Meryl from the house, Millie and Wolfwood tailing close behind.  
  
"What now?" Millie asked, expressing what everyone was thinking.  
  
Assuming a cheerful position, Vash chirped up "I think I'll go get something yummy to eat! I'm starved!"  
  
He was rewarded with a sharp elbow to the ribs.  
  
"We have a lot more to do than waste time on donuts," Meryl said haughtily.  
  
"Like what?" Vash asked innocently.  
  
"Well, for starters, I have to contact Bernardelli Insurance Society and let them know that Millie and I are safe. Not to mention pray that we haven't been fired. Then I have to talk to my landlord, because I left our apartment in a huge mess. And then there will be mountains of paperwork to complete..."  
  
Vash smiled as she rambled on. He felt...complete. Although the loss of his brother saddened him, Knives' death had given him new hope. It had also given him a new life.  
  
The gung ho guns were freed now. With Knives death the demon eating at them had been released. Vash had merely sent them on their way, happy that they also had a new start at life.  
  
There had been a small funeral/burial for Legato and Knives. Gravestone markers were placed at both graves, placed side by side in the small plot behind the house. Vash had shed many tears into the desert sand before they left the little graveyard, but now that was all behind him. Now he had a new chance, both at life and with Meryl, and he intended to use it to his fullest.  
  
"You know, Millie, I was thinking," Wolfwood started.  
  
Millie's cheerful face, smiling as usual, turned from the road ahead to the man beside her.  
  
"We lost one child. Perhaps...we could have another?"  
  
Millie's eyes widened.  
  
Rushing on, Wolfwood stuttered out "After we get married of course!"  
  
"Married!" Millie squealed. She launched herself into his arms, almost tumbling him over backwards. Between laughter and kisses, Wolfwood managed to get out "Is that a yes?"  
  
"Yes!" Millie cried.  
  
"Hey, Vash?"  
  
Vash tore his eyes from the happy couple now standing idle in the middle of the desert down to Meryl's upturned face.  
  
"Yeah? What is it Meryl?"  
  
"Do you think that...maybe, sometime, we could go and get my old clothes back?" Meryl sounded more timid than usual, "I think I'm tired of being pistol-whip Meryl. I miss Derringer Meryl."  
  
Vash smiled, recognizing that Meryl had finally regained the identity she thought she had lost.  
"Sure, Meryl. We have all the time in the world."  
  
Meryl smiled, then frowned "But first, you're getting that jacket washed. And then you're getting a bath. You're filthy! Look at all this blood, it's disgusting..."  
  
Vash smiled. This was going to be a perfect existence indeed.  
"Awww..." He whined, "Do I have to?" 


End file.
